His Majesty's Pearl
by Miran Anders
Summary: COMPLETE. A request by Governer Swann leads to new adventure. Second in the LEGACY series.
1. Bridgewater

Well, hello again! I had promised my cast from LEGACY a vacation, but they seemed anxious to get back to work. I, however, am between getting my taxes and a root canal done, so it could be… ah… sporadic. We shall see!

Meantime, I hope you enjoy this next attempt in the series –

Onward.

* * *

A breeze tickled through soaring palm trees on the high hills just inland of Bridgewater, some four miles northeast of Port Royal. The early morning sun sparkled on a narrow, spring-fed stream that flowed past a freshly landscaped house, and then tumbled down, by easy fits and starts, to the sea.

Elizabeth Turner knelt next to a stolen offshoot of the spring that flowed into a small, muddy pool circled by stones that now centered the herb garden outside her father's most far-flung guest house. She looked critically at her work for a minute, picked up another rock and rubbed the back of her hand across her nose. As she stretched her back and turned her glance out towards the sea, she stared thoughtfully, blissfully unaware of the coppery streak of mud she had transferred to her cheek. When she heard footsteps behind her she started almost guiltily, turning to look at her husband.

Will Turner dropped to one knee next to her and shook his head with a laugh, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiping off the smudge. "Can't leave you alone for a moment, can I." She giggled as he kissed her nose, smiling, and gave him a muddy hug in return.

"Do you really want to?"

"Never." He kissed her properly, and she sighed into his shoulder afterwards. Waiting a moment, he looked out over her head to the sea before asking. "See anything?"

She pulled away and turned to look with him. "No, nothing." Her eyes met his, the chestnut meeting chocolate in the early light. "Do you suppose they're ever coming back?"

He laughed quietly as he pushed an errant strand of hair back from her face with a soft smile. "It's only been three months, darling. They said they'd need at least that long to get my father's ship 'up to standards'. Lord knows what the two of them have in mind for the _Esperance_." There was no mistaking the pride in his voice as he spoke of his father, the new captain of the governor's merchant ship.

"I know. I just expected – " She shrugged as she placed the rock she still held firmly in the bank of the pool and sighed with annoyance at herself.

"Expected what? That they'd miss solid ground and stability as much as we miss open seas and adventure?" Will splashed a bit of water at her as he spoke, and Elizabeth laughed as she shifted to stand up. She made a regal flourish with her hand.

"Exactly. They should come and go at my bidding."

"I see. Just as I do, eh?"

"Exactly!"

Will's jaw dropped at her serious expression, which she held as long as humanly possible before laughing. Then he lunged for her as she executed a narrow escape, following as she ran with delighted laughter along the stone path around the pool and over a footbridge that crossed the stream and trailed into the untamed forest beyond. Three minutes later a triumphant laugh made it clear that Will had made his capture.

It was a bit longer than that before they reappeared on the path, walking with their arms happily around each others waists. Still, as soon as they reached the small bridge with its clean sightlines, they found themselves looking back out beyond the coast below. Far out to sea Will thought he could see specks that might eventually become tall ships, and he looked back at Elizabeth with a shrug.

"It's still early. And really, it has only just been three months."

Elizabeth smiled and looked down. "You really need to stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Reading my mind."

He raised one eyebrow in playful menace and leaned in to whisper softly. "Never." They kissed again as she giggled, before he pulled back a bit to look sincerely into her eyes. "Do you really think we're going to be able to finish the garden before your father comes?"

"Oh, I think so." She looked around thoughtfully. "At least, if we actually keep working." Breaking away from him with an affectionate smile and taking another stone from the pile, she settled it into the side of the pool and eyed it carefully. "Did father tell you when he'd arrive?"

Will grabbed a shovel and threw more of the dirt from the newly dug pool into a wooden barrow. "The note just said 'supper'. It seemed a little distracted, frankly."

"Hmm. Knowing father, it'll be close, but I think -"

The wind shifted abruptly, making the trees sing. With a sudden odd feeling they both stopped what they were doing and looked back out to sea. After a moment they frowned at each other thoughtfully, and returned to their work without another word.

* * *

Governor Weatherby Swann dabbed his lips genteelly with his napkin and sighed with content. "The meal was excellent, Estrella." Elizabeth's maid and now housekeeper gave a quiet smile and bobbed a nod.

"Can I get you anything else, then?"

Elizabeth smiled. "Thank you, Estrella, but I believe Will can pour the sherry. Shall we take it outside? The garden has a lovely breeze."

Will was about to agree with her when the governor interrupted. "Actually, I was hoping to take a bit of a walk this afternoon… if you two would care to join me?" Elizabeth glanced over at Will, unable to keep the surprise out of her eyes. Her father was never terribly enthusiastic about the outdoors – but then, so much had changed in the last few months.

"Certainly, father. That sounds lovely." She stood from the table, and both men hurried to stand. "Let me get a shawl-"

"Perhaps, my dear, you should change into something more suitable?"

This time Will blinked in surprise. "More _suitable_? You mean – trousers?"

The governor looked self-conscious for only a moment. "Well, ever since you told me of the stream path that goes all the way down to Bridgewater, I've been intrigued. It sounds quite the bracing walk." The young couple looked at him in mild shock.

"Indeed, it is… it's a bit of a hike, sir. Not exactly a walk."

Swann picked up his walking stick from the bin near the door. "Exactly why Elizabeth should dress appropriately. I hardly think she would be willing to stay behind." He looked at his daughter expectantly. "Do hurry, dear. We'll want the light. Will and I can look over the improvements while we wait."

Elizabeth closed her mouth, looked from Will to her father and shook her head. "I'll be down before you know it." Pausing, she turned back to her husband. "That is, if you think I should change." Will's eyes smiled lovingly at her. Independent as she was when they were alone, she was always careful to make it clear to people - especially of her father's society - that she was now her husband's wife. The blacksmith had to smile whenever she did it. As if Elizabeth Swann had no mind of her own.

"I think it's an excellent idea." Stepping closer, his expression earnest, he added quietly, "Perhaps the blue?"

Elizabeth broke into a bright, girlish smile, nodded, and vanished upstairs. Will watched after her until the governor tapped his walking stick lightly on the floor. Shaking his head, the young man nodded to his father-in-law and walked with him to the door.

They stepped outside into the soft afternoon air. Up here on the hill, the breeze kissed the palms like an overanxious suitor as Will proudly showed off their current project.

"I must say, Will, that this is more than I expected. When you said you two wanted to 'earn your keep' by fixing up the old place, I didn't think it could look like this." The younger man nodded with quiet pride.

"Thank you, sir. It's nice to have the work appreciated."

"No, thank you." He put his hand on Will's shoulder. "But I do hope you and Elizabeth have taken the time for a proper honeymoon?" An indignant laugh made them turn to see Elizabeth, wearing a loose pale blue shirt and darker slate trousers, topped with a matching waistcoat vest.

"Really, father. I'm afraid three months just isn't enough time to produce a grandchild. Even for me."

Will looked a bit embarrassed but Swann just shook his head. "Honestly, Elizabeth. Your talent for commentary…" She gave him a smug grin and he raised an eyebrow at her. Not to be outdone by his only daughter, he turned to Will and said with a sigh, "You know, son, I did my best with her."

Will, who could see his expression, nodded sympathetically. "Believe me, I understand." They both turned as she made an indignant noise, and she saw the teasing expressions on their faces.

"The two of you. One worse than the other. I suppose I should have a child, just to get an ally around here."

Ignoring her outburst with a smile, Swann continued. "As much as I would like to have a grandchild – _eventually_ – I was actually hoping that after your awful ordeal the both of you would make sure you had a proper rest."

Will glanced at Elizabeth, who was still staring at them with narrowed eyes, and grinned mischievously. "Oh, really, sir. Marrying your daughter wasn't that awful an ordeal."

"You know, there _are_ still a few rocks left, Will Turner."

"Indeed."

Governor Swann glanced away as they kissed, then cleared his throat. "Shall we?"

Following the stream down the forested hill was like being in another world. The slanting afternoon sun lit the canopy of trees with a golden green glow, and the fingers of light that poked through touched down on sparkling miniature waterfalls adorned with pendant ferns. Contrary to their concern, Elizabeth's father showed himself to be in excellent shape, not even tiring as they made their way down. In fact, he seemed almost anxious. When they reached the bridge that gave the place its name, they ambled down to the banks of the widening stream to sit on a fallen log. Only then did Swann take off his hat and fan himself with it.

"Excellent! Most invigorating."

Will was about to speak when they abruptly heard a voice, singing drunkenly from under the bridge. Frowning, they turned to see a boat floating there, a man in it lying on his back with his hat resting over his eyes. The man sat up slowly, stretched, and looked at them with curious affection.

"Well, what have we here. An elegant scene of familial bliss."

"Jack! How did you get here?"

The pirate pushed toward shore and managed to get out of the boat without falling into the water, although it appeared to look like a distinct possibility. "A fine greeting for an old friend, mate." Will thumped him on the back as he laughed. "Ah, Lizzie." He kept hold of her hands and looked her up and down after she hugged him. "Yer not in a family way, are you? I could be out of practice. I've not delivered a child into the world in..." He looked up thoughtfully, counting.

She rolled her eyes. "Why is _everyone_ so convinced I should be –"

But Jack had already looked back to Will. "Not happening, eh? You're not _really_ a eunuch, are you?"

"Jack –"

Moving away from the protesting couple, Sparrow walked slowly towards Swann. "Hello, guv." They stared at each other seriously for a long moment before Jack carefully extended his hand and Swann shook it. "I wasn't expecting the children to be here." An overtone of warning was in his voice, and his dark eyes flashed. The governor seemed unperturbed.

"Yes, well. I thought they might enjoy seeing you again. And it's no secret that you would have gotten in touch with them anyway."

The pirate stepped closer, and the governor pulled his head back slightly in defense. "They're _not_ part of any deal, savvy?"

Swann blinked and tried not to breathe. "'Savvy', Captain Sparrow, I assure you. I assume you can stay ashore long enough to attend to our business?"

"Business?" Will was looking concerned as he watched the two interact.

"Just a little conversation I need to have with the guv here. Nothing to worry about." His tone was light, but there was a definite lack of confidence in his expression. Governor Swann smiled broadly, slapping his hands together.

"Well, then. Let's walk back up to the house, shall we?"


	2. Behind Closed Doors

Thanks to the readers and reviewers! I'm amazed that you are all back…

Can I also just say: Doing research rocks. But is very hard to stop.

* * *

Weatherby Swann stopped and looked around cautiously when they reached the footbridge path to the guest house at the top of the hill, causing Jack Sparrow, who was directly behind, to narrowly avoid running into him. The pirate wobbled to a stop and turned to glare at Will and Elizabeth, as if they had caused it. Will shrugged at him and raised his eyebrows, silently asking what was going on. Jack just shook his head, turned back toward Swann and followed quietly into the foyer.

They were nearly at the library in the back of the house when the governor spoke up. "Well, Elizabeth, Will… if you'll allow Mr. Sparrow and I –"

"Captain. Captain Sparrow."

"Yes, of course. If you'll allow Captain Sparrow and I to use the library for our conversation-"

"Father. I don't see why we can't hear what you two are talking about." For a moment the look in the governor's eye was very much the military man, and Will was a little surprised by it, although he knew the governor had certainly served his time.

"Yes, I'm sure you don't." Looking to his son-in-law, he gestured at his daughter. "If you would…?"

"Of course, sir." Taking his reluctant wife by the shoulders, he steered her out of the room. "Come on, Elizabeth."

In the hall she turned to him. "But what could father possibly –"

"Darling. Do you really think we won't find out from Jack later? I've got three bottles of rum in the kitchen."

She looked dubious. "I suppose." He kissed the top of her head.

"Come on, then. Let's have that sherry, and wait for them in the garden."

* * *

Inside the library, Governor Swann sat down in one of the heavy leather chairs and motioned for Jack to do the same. The pirate hesitated only for a moment, wavering between the couch and the chair, then sat and put his boots up on the writing desk. The governor gave an ironic sigh.

"Comfortable?"

"Aye." Jack looked around the room, nodded approvingly. "Nice place you've set them up with."

The governor nodded as he stood to open the French doors to outside before returning to his chair. "Technically, it was built as the guest house for visiting ambassadors, but since we don't have many of those these days, it's gone into disrepair. It was Will who suggested that they stay here a while and get the place in order. They've done a fine job."

"Keeps 'em out from underfoot at the big house as well, I'd imagine."

"Yes, well." The two men shared a grin without looking at each other.

Jack nodded again. "He's a good man, our Will. Your Elizabeth has a fine head on her shoulders."

"Thank you."

Silence seemed to drift back into the room through the back doors, along with a gentle breeze that turned the page of a book sitting on the display stand.

"So, guv. Just what are we doing here?"

"It's a bit of a long story, captain. First I need to know if the _Esperance_ is in sailing order?"

"From what I've heard." He put his feet down and leaned toward the governor, glancing around conspiratorially. "You may not know it, but William Turner is the best ship's carpenter I've ever had the pleasure of sailing with. And not just the hammering kind. The kind that knows how it works. You got a bargain on that deal, guv." He reached over and took a small ivory carving of a whale from the desk, turning it in his hands as he sat back. "The sails had to be reset, all the shrouds were off for her keel… William had a whole list before he took her off to be refitted. I've not seen him in a month, at least." The whale popped into two pieces in his hands, and a small figure of a man fell out onto the floor. Jack picked it up and stared at it curiously before fitting it all back together.

"I had a good feeling about the man. I'm glad it's worked out so well." Swann looked toward the French doors again, and Jack caught a slight uneasiness.

"We waiting for someone, then?"

"Ah. Not anymore."

Captain William Turner walked in through the open doors, took off his hat and nodded to the governor.

"Sorry it took so long. I didn't want to run into anyone. Hello, Jack."

Sparrow stood and shook hands with his old friend. "Well, well. William. How's she sailing?"

"Good as gold, Cap'n."

"Must be, if we didn't see you on the approach." Jack looked a little suspicious - perhaps _jealous_ - of another fast ship in the area, much to Turner's delight.

"Oh, she'll give the Pearl a run for her money, now that she's set right."

Governor Swann stepped forward, heading off an extended conversation of ship comparisons. "Gentlemen, now that you're both here – " He looked out the door again, just as a man stepped into the room.

"Busy place, guv."

"Gentlemen, this is who we've been waiting for. Captain Sparrow, Captain Turner, this is Sir Robert W-" The man abruptly lifted his hand to stop him.

"That's enough. It wouldn't be wise."

"But surely, if they're –"

"No."

The governor stared at the man for a moment, then shook his head. "Fine. As you will." With a slightly frustrated look on his face, Swann looked back at the captains. "This is _Sir Robert_, from London. The man who asked me to find a fast ship with a trustworthy captain. I thought that one of you might be interested in his proposal."

The two captains looked at each other, then back to the governor and his mysterious friend. The pirates sized up the politicians, and vice-versa. 'Sir Robert' was staring at them with unmistakable dismay.

"Pirates, Weatherby? Honestly… is this wise?"

Swann turned on the man with surprising vehemence. "First of all, Robert, Captain Turner sails one of _my_ ships, so I'd thank you not to assume he's a _pirate_." Sir Robert snorted in disgust.

"Think a leopard can change his spots, eh?" He shook his head in disapproval, gestured toward Sparrow. "Very well. But I believe it's time to call the guard on _this_ one. This _creature_ should be locked away this very moment."

Jack stood and tossed the whale back onto the desk. Touching his fingers lightly to his forehead, he saluted briskly if somewhat sarcastically. "I guess that's my cue, guv. Tell the children I said goodbye." The dark eyes were flashing with anger.

"Please, captain, wait until –"

The pirate took a step toward the governor. "Unless, of course, this whole meeting was just a ploy to get me onto your soil again." There was barely subdued menace in his voice as his hand slipped slowly to the hilt of his sword.

"Captain Sparrow." The governor's voice snapped in the room, every bit as angry as Jack's. "If you truly believe that, then we have nothing further to discuss."

They stared at each other, the tension crackling between them. For a long moment it was silent, the birds singing cheerfully outside sounding painfully out of place. It was William who finally broke the silence.

"Gentlemen. Let's not forget our history, shall we?" They both turned to look at him, and his eyebrows peaked. "After all, I don't really think this problem is between the two of you." They glanced at each other, and Turner gestured with a nod toward Sir Robert. Something seemed to soften in the air. "Besides," he said, stepping closer to them and speaking more quietly. "I don't want to have to explain anything to Will and Elizabeth. I can just imagine what she would do if she thought you were at odds."

Jack and the governor both winced involuntarily. Sparrow shook his head.

"He's right, guv. You done alright by me and mine. I don't suppose you've given me any reason to suspect." He stuck out his hand, and Swann shook it with a tight nod.

"Touching, Weatherby, _quite_ touching, but honestly. Do you really feel you can trust him?"

Governor Swann's eyes didn't leave Jack's. "Yes, Robert. I do. More than most men."

"Are you suggesting something, Governor?"

Swann's gaze slowly traveled toward his old acquaintance. "Only that when he extends his loyalty, Robert, it actually means something."

The other man bristled quietly, then turned abruptly, moving to sit at the writing desk. He carefully laid a square, leather-bound wooden case on the polished cherrywood surface. It looked like a large book-case, perhaps for a bible. "Fine. It's on your head, then, if this goes wrong."

"I accept that."

"Still, I can't help wondering if you even care if this enterprise succeeds."

The other three men startled as Governor Swann leapt to his feet, so quickly that his chair creaked backwards. He stepped to the desk and leaned on it heavily, bringing his face closer to the other man. In a dangerously quiet voice, he said, "I swear, Robert. If you _ever_ have the audacity to question my loyalty to the crown, I _will_ make you answer for it." The two pirates stared in amazement as Sir Robert clearly backed down, and Jack quirked a little sparkling grin.

"I was suggesting nothing of the sort, Weatherby. There's no need for histrionics." Sir Robert blustered slightly, busying himself with the locks on the case. "I just hope you realize it's your career at stake if this goes wrong."

Swann straightened up. "Yes, I do." He glanced at the captains, who were staring with unabashed curiosity. "And a bit more than that."

Will and Elizabeth were walking around the garden, discussing perennials, when they noticed the French doors at the back of the house were wide open. Elizabeth looked at Will, her eyes wide. He frowned, glanced to the doors and back to her. Then he looked up at the sky as if for guidance, back to her eager expression, and shrugged. She smiled, eyes sparkling, and walked casually toward the patio outside the library, fussing with the new plantings.

"More than your career, guv? Doesn't sound promising."

Swann took a deep breath. "I'm sure you're aware of the tension between Britain and the alliance between France and Spain." He walked over to a small table near the doors, where a tray held a heavy, cut glass decanter and several snifters. "Brandy?" Sir Robert declined, William nodded graciously, and Jack looked at him as if he were mad to think there would be any answer but 'yes' to a drink. He poured an inch into three glasses and handed them out as he spoke. "His Majesty is trying to avoid another episode like the one of Jenkin's ear. The crown would like a respite from the fighting. A time of peace."

Jack gave a snort of derision as he swirled the brandy in his glass, warming it with his hand. "Jenkins was a bit of a twit. A smuggler getting caught."

"I heard it wasn't his fault, Jack."

"Aye, William, but I've met the man." He shook his head dismissively. "An absolute twit." He sniffed the brandy, lifted his eyebrows, and sipped delicately. His expression changed to one of quiet rapture. "My compliments, guv. A hundred years if it's a day."

"Yes." Swann shook his head, trying to stay focused in the face of Captain Jack Sparrow. "In any case, the crown is sending a… _gift_… to the meeting with the French and Spanish ambassadors, in the hopes of easing hostilities." Sipping his brandy, he looked outside thoughtfully.

"So you're buying the peace, then?"

The governor laughed shortly. "I appreciate the thought, Captain Turner, but even in government we know what a bribe is, although we often call it diplomacy. I strongly doubt that this will bring peace, but perhaps we can ease the tensions long enough to find a diplomatic solution." He gestured toward the case. "Show them, Robert."

"There's really no need for them to know any more than you've told them about –"

"Robert. I'm not going to ask them to risk their lives without knowing what they're risking them for. Besides, I told you… I trust them."

Sir Robert shook his head and reluctantly opened the case. Jack and William stood to join the governor at the desk.

Inside the case were two indentations, each holding a small bag made of fine silk. Sir Robert took them out one at a time. "First, the sun." He slid the contents out onto the black velvet lining of the case. A brilliant round-cut yellow diamond the size of a hazelnut sparkled up at them. The pirate's eyes widened.

"Ol' George is giving that away?"

The governor chuckled quietly. "Actually, yes. Riches do very little for a sovereign when his people are unhappy." He glanced over at the pirate, gauging his reaction. "Ironically, I think you'll like the other even more. It's what made me decide to ask you to deliver these."

Robert opened the other bag and tipped it onto the velvet. "The moon."

A black sphere of matching size rolled onto the velvet, glimmering with blue-green iridescence, like a starling's wing. Jack couldn't suppress a gasp, and his hand darted toward it, stopping only inches short. He glanced almost apologetically at the governor.

"May I?" The pleading in his eyes made him look like a young boy trying to get a second dessert. "Just - for a moment?"

Governor Swann reached over and picked it up, setting it gently on the leather guard covering Jack's outstretched palm. The pirate stared at it, took it up between thumb and forefinger and held it up to the light.

"Excellent. Tahitian black, unless I'm very much mistaken." Jack turned it this way and that, shaking his head. "This wouldn't have come from Portugal, would it, guv?"

The governor smiled, shot Robert a look. "I told you, Robert. We needed someone who would appreciate the cargo."

Jack smiled, gold glinting in the last slanting light of the day. "You're right about that, guv. Unless I'm very much mistaken, this was the gift from the king of Portugal to ol' George – what, five years ago? It was the talk of the Caribbean." Swann nodded and William looked at it curiously.

"What is it, Jack?"

"This, William, is '_A Pérola Preta'_." The Portuguese rolled off his tongue with surprising ease as he stared at it, his dark eyes reflecting its mysterious, iridescent glimmer. His voice dropped to a dark purr as he translated.

"_The Black __Pearl_."


	3. Sun and Moon

Sir Robert held out the silk bag, waiting impatiently for Jack to return the_ Pérola. _The pirate seemed to notice him finally, and with a heavy sigh took the bag and slipped the pearl ceremoniously into it, looking longingly toward the open doors as he did. He held the bag on the flat of his palm.

"Y'know, guv, it's a bit ironic."

"How's that, Captain Sparrow?"

Jack looked from his hand to the governor. "I lost a ship trying to get this very trinket."

Involuntarily, Swann and Turner blurted in unison. "Another one?"

Jack's dark eyes narrowed as he glared at them. "It wasn't my fault. And I thought this would be a wonderful good luck piece for the _Pearl_when I got her back…"

"But how –"

With a sweeping gesture he returned the bag to its case, plumping it carefully as he did. "Instead of wasting precious time on the mundane trivialities of history –" he spilled the words out like a handful of beads – "Hows about you telling us the whys and wherefores of this little outing?"

Before the governor could answer the clock in the library struck eight, and Sir Robert stood as it chimed the hour. "Weatherby, since you're bound and determined to follow this course, I leave it in your hands. My ship sets sail with the tide, and I must return to London." The governor stood with him and they shook hands formally, if not cordially. "I'll inform the crown of your decision."

Swann nodded ruefully. "I'm sure you will, Robert." Stepping back, he added, "Please extend my warmest regards to his Majesty."

"I will."

"Aye, and mine as well, mate. Give ol' George my best, tell him not to be such a stranger." Jack's smile glittered, and Sir Robert rolled his eyes in disgust before looking back to the governor.

"If this goes sour, Weatherby, you may have a command audience yourself." Without further acknowledging the captains, Sir Robert left. Weatherby Swann exhaled heavily once he was gone.

"Interesting friend you've got there, guv."

Swann shook his head as he lit the lamps in the darkening room, then moved to splash another round of brandy into their glasses before sitting down. "He does his job well enough for the king, but I believe you'd call him…" the governor frowned as he looked at Jack, his eyebrows peaked. "…a bit of a _twit_?"

Jack's smile glinted in the candlelight. "Right you are. But now that we're alone, perhaps you can tell me why it seems you want the _Pearl_ as well as William?"

The governor sipped his brandy and looked at the two men solemnly. "The French and Spanish ambassadors originally wanted the meeting to be in the Fort San Cristóbal at Puerto Rico."

"Smack in Spain's territory?"

"Yes. The compromise was a small island east of there. It's disputed territory, at best – probably the only people that have been in residence consistently these last two decades are the pirates."

William looked at Jack. "Crab Island?"

"Sounds like." They looked at the governor, who nodded. "Listen, guv – that's not a very safe little haunt."

Swann gave them a grim smile. "It's not a 'safe little' junket, either. That's why I want the _Black Pearl_ to accompany the _Esperance_. If there's a more formidable ship that's not in the King's navy, I don't know of it."

Jack preened slightly at the praise. "True enough. But that's a good question right there. Why _not_ use the King's navy?"

"Too obvious. We're trying to keep the passage quiet… and no one would expect the _Pearl_ to be doing an errand for the crown. If anything, they'll think you're after the gems."

William nodded thoughtfully. "It sounds like we'll be watched, nonetheless."

"Yes. I'm afraid that's true. The factions who want to see the peace effort fail, for example, will certainly be curious as to where the 'Sun and Moon' are headed."

William shook his head. "Why would they want peace to fail?"

"To discredit his Majesty. To divide the house's attention. There are parties within the French and Spanish governments that feel the same way." Weatherby sipped again, looked out toward the darkening horizon. "Not to mention certain parties who know there will be gifts exchanged, and just want the gems."

Jack looked uncomfortable. "Well, y'see, guv, there's the problem, innit?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well. I've got to ask: what profit lies in taking this on? Why shouldn't I just put this pearl in my pocket, give William the diamond, and call it a day?"

Weatherby Swann and Jack Sparrow stared at each other for a long moment. Eventually the governor pursed his lips. "Well, Captain Sparrow. First of all I would say you need to take the pearl _out_ of your pocket to do that. I believe your right one?"

Jack looked impressed. He also sighed and fished the pearl he had pocketed out of his coat. "You've a good eye. But you'll notice _Sir Robert_ didn't see me palm it."

Weatherby suppressed a grin, but let his voice go flat as he shrugged the explanation. "Twit."

"Aye."

Swann held out his hand, and Jack placed the pearl on it reluctantly.

"Still, mate, you must admit. Two pirates against one man –"

"One pirate, Jack. Against me and my employer."

Sparrow looked at William narrowly. "Ah. Yes." Listing slightly toward his old friend, he added with a subdued smile, "There'll be more to that conversation, mate. Another time." William nodded, smiling himself, and Jack turned back to the governor. "Still, guv. What's in it for me? Clemency isn't worth much in these waters, divided as they are."

Governor Swann looked at him steadily. "Would a full pardon be worth anything? And the protection of the crown?"

Jack's eyes widened in spite of himself. "You can't do that."

"No, but his Majesty could."

William whistled softly as Jack stared.

"And you believe ol' George would do that for me."

"And every one of your crew. All you need to do is transport the 'Sun and Moon' safely to the gathering on Crab Island, and I'll see it done."

Jack looked back at the case. "I don't know, guv. We've been doing alright, splitting the hoard from Muerta…"

"Of course, it would also mean you were all welcome to come and go here in Port Royal as you please."

Jack shrugged. "Listen, it'd be great to see more of the children, but –" he shook his head. "You're suggesting I give up piracy? _Me_?"

"You would still be Captain Jack Sparrow. You would still sail wherever you wish, and still have the _Black Pearl_."

There was a longish pause as Jack stared at his brandy. The governor looked undecided for a moment, then took a deep, determined breath.

"There is another detail to consider here in Port Royal, Captain Sparrow, that you may not be aware of." Jack and William frowned at him curiously as he stood, pacing slowly in front of the doors. "There is an officer, an up and coming young man in the command, posted here at the fort. He has recently taken on a quadroon mistress." Jack stiffened slightly in his chair, but sipped his brandy as the governor continued.

"Now, while that isn't uncommon, he's taking to showing her off instead of keeping her quietly."

Although Jack's head was bowed over his glass, his eyes slowly lifted to look at the governor.

"Granted, she seems to vanish for weeks at a time, but just this morning I saw them in town, shopping. Lieutenant Grove's mistress is quite a lovely woman, and looked surprisingly familiar to me."

Jack's voice growled quietly. "She's not his mistress, guv. She's his wife."

Swann's eyebrows raised. "Really. Well, I'm not surprised. I would have expected as much from that particular officer. He's an honorable man." The governor nodded thoughtfully. "But that doesn't change the fact that if _I_ recognized her, it's only a matter of time before others do…and it could mean charges against him _and_ her."

Standing, the pirate walked toward the French doors, looking out into the velvety dark blue of the evening sky that faded to apricot at its western edge. He looked down into his empty glass, and refilled it from the decanter.

"Well, clearly there's more to consider here than just whether I care to sail flank for William. My choice affects my crew, and I'll need some time to consider."

"I understand, Captain." Swann put down his glass and picked up the case, locking it carefully. "I'll be back tomorrow, around noon." He looked almost apologetic. "I'll need a decision from you by then, or Captain Turner and I will be delivering it alone."

He paused, and the two men standing glanced toward the open doors and back to each other. Jack shook his head with a silent laugh in spite of himself.

"Aye, Lizzie. Come bid your father goodbye. And bring the whelp with you."

* * *

It was past midnight in the kitchen of the guest house, and Elizabeth was starting to blink sleepily, exhausted from the long day of physical labor. Will was talking quietly with his father, but turned when she nestled in closer to his shoulder.

"You should go to bed, love. I'll be along soon."

She shifted, opening her eyes again. "Absolutely not. As soon as I leave, you'll make some decision…" She yawned involuntarily, and Jack chuckled.

"Actually, Will, perhaps you could take your lady fair off to bed?"

Will opened his mouth to protest, and realized that Jack and his father had things to discuss. He looked back and forth between them, then down to Elizabeth, who was sinking into his chest again. "I think I'll do that, Jack. But I'll expect to know what's going on in the morning."

"Yes, you would."

Will grinned at him as he urged Elizabeth to her feet. "Come on, darling, we're going upstairs." She nodded, sighing sleepily. Leaning over, she kissed her father-in-law on the cheek.

"Goodnight, father." William smiled at that, and brushed his hand over her hair.

"Goodnight, Elizabeth. Sleep well."

To Jack's surprise, she turned and kissed his cheek sleepily as well. "G'night, Jack." His eyes widened as he looked at the other men, who smiled broadly.

"Goodnight, Lizzie."

Will gave his father a hug and waved to Jack. "There're more rooms, if you want to stay ashore tonight."

"Thanks, lad, but I think I'll have to go discuss things with the crew, once your father and I hash this out."

"Alright." The younger man looked at them both fondly, and lifted Elizabeth away from the wall where she was leaning, more asleep than awake. Realizing she might not make it upstairs, he scooped her up, cradling her against his chest.

Jack laughed quietly. "Yer a kept man, boy."

Will tossed him a wry look and carried her out of the room. Once they were gone, William shook his head.

"They're happy."

"Certainly are."

There was a pause. "Why wouldn't you want to do it, Jack?"

Jack sighed. "Listen, William. I know it was different for you, but I'm still master of my own ship, king of my own country… even if that's only measured by the rail of the _Pearl_. I've no desire to answer to anyone else."

"Even if it means you don't have to run anymore?"

"Gods, William. It's the running that keeps me alive."

Turner shook his head, took a drink from the tankard in front of him. "You could still be what you are, Jack."

"Could I? Hard to go breaking the law when I've given my word to the guv…"

The older pirate laughed. "There's your problem, mate. You're still a good man."

"It'll be my death."

They sat in companionable silence, lost in their own thoughts, until William spoke again.

"What about Anamaria?"

Jack drank deeply from his own tankard. "It's not fair to put her life on me."

"I didn't."

"Right."

"Y'know, Jack, I think you're missing the point of Swann's offer."

"Am I?"

"Do this, get a full pardon from the crown. Then decide what you want to do with that freedom."

Jack stared into his mug for a while, then looked up at William. "You may have a point there." Downing the rest of the rum, he stood. "I better get out to the _Pearl_, have this out with Ana. Lord help me."

"Should I come along?"

The pirate considered. "Good idea, mate. I may need you to flank _me_ this time."


	4. Decisions

Oh, dear… looking back at my notes (which are scattered on tiny papers over my desk at work and spill into my working notebook; strange tidbits about advisors to King George and how to value Tahitian black pearls, an odd statement about _Google_ and "Jenkin's Ear", along with 'pearl' translated into four different languages), it seems that my tylenol-with-codeine-and-impending-financial-disaster inspired brain started a second story. That's interesting. That's very interesting.

Now that the root canal is done and the taxes are filed, I better go have a chat with Jack and the rest and see what they've been up to while I was 'away'. Hey, what's this? Ah… it appears _someone_ left a map here, under my chair…

* * *

Captain William Turner paused as they walked through the gardens in the velvety darkness. "Now that I think on it, Jack, I promised the crew I'd be back before morning." He shook his head with the hint of a laugh. "I'm not quite used to being the one they answer to, I suppose."

The pirate couldn't help smiling as he pictured his old friend and lookout as the responsible captain of his own ship. "Ah. And I suppose you're docked smack in port, and a shilling lighter, to boot."

"Wouldn't do for himself's ship to settle anywhere else, would it?" William gave a smug little grin. "Good luck with Ana, then. I'll be back with the governor tomorrow."

"Fair enough."

"Jack." A thought struck William and he stopped walking, standing like a statue in the pale moonlight.

"William." The pirate spun to a stop, his elastic wobble a stark contrast as he looked at his old friend.

"Wouldn't it make more sense to come with me, meet her in Port Royal?"

Jack sighed rather overdramatically. "She promised she'd be aboard by midnight."

They looked at each other, and William finally shrugged. "It's certainly worth a try."

"Indeed." Jack looked out toward the sea, a touch of concern furrowing his brow until William spoke again.

"By the way, Jack. Are you ever planning to tell Swann that your crew was one of the main reasons for the 'disrepair' of the guest house?"

Jack grinned quietly as he leapt over the small garden pool, narrowly missing a newly planted primrose. "Don't know if there'll _ever_ be an opportune moment for that, mate."

The two men chuckled as Jack disappeared into the forested hill. His voice drifted back on a soft, vanilla scented breeze. "Until tomorrow, William."

"Tomorrow." William looked up from the forest and stood staring fondly at the moon for several minutes before walking around to the front of the house where his horse was tied. Soon after, at an easy trot, Captain William Turner was on his way back to his ship.

Jack made his way down the hill next to the stream in the dark, moving with his familiar loose confidence. He smiled to himself as he ran the last bit to his dinghy, wondering if he would beat Ana to the ship. The moon made it clear that it was well past midnight, and he strongly doubted his best helmsman would be able to keep her promise.

As it turned out he _was_ first, but only by a hair. Gibbs had just finished directing the crew as they stowed the captain's dinghy when Anamaria's voice rang out in the night. "Throw me a rope, ye old dog, an' be quick about it."

Gibbs grinned broadly over the rail to the shadowed side of the ship. "Ah, now, there's no need to be goin' on like that, Miss Ana. All in good time."

"It's time I don't have! If the captain finds out that I'm late-"

Jack's voice floated down to the water. "Aye. I'm sure he'll have your head."

A muffled curse drifted back up. "Sorry, Jack. I was…"

"I'm sure you were. Bring her up, Mr. Gibbs."

The captain was smiling as a rucksack flew over the rail; frowned a bit confusedly when it was followed by an elegant broad brimmed hat trimmed with silk flowers; and shocked when that was followed by Anamaria herself. As Jack saw her in the light of the moon, his eyes widened. The night watch nearby, when they saw her, erupted with whistling and catcalls.

"The next man who has the burnin' need to say somethin' about what I'm wearin' will feel the back o' my hand, and no mistake." The silence was instantaneous.

Anamaria stood like a vengeful queen in the moonlight, wearing a full gown of gleaming emerald green satin. The skirt was divided in front to show cream and gold brocade beneath, the same fabric that formed gauntlets for the high, puffed sleeves. A low neckline accentuated her slim waist beneath a generous expanse of cleavage, and a small, heart shaped emerald on a gold chain rested prettily on her collarbone. Apart from the look of dangerous fury on her face, she was absolutely stunning.

Gibbs recovered first. "By the saints, Ana. Yer a vision."

She lifted her hand but stopped, shook her head, her lips tight. "Aye, and yer just havin' on with me."

"No, Ana, he's right." Jack picked up her bag and hat, moved closer to her with an appreciative smile. "Quite beautiful."

He wasn't sure if she was angry or not, but she gave him a strange look, took her things from him and fled to her cabin. Jack looked at Gibbs, pointed a long, slender finger gracefully.

"I suppose I should give her a few minutes."

"Aye." Gibbs walked over to check that her dinghy was properly secured, and shook his head. "Ye wouldn't catch me walkin' into her cabin right now for all the gold in China." Jack turned back to frown at him as he walked away, shrugged, and went to check over his ship.

The _Black_ _Pearl_ wasn't resting at anchor, but pacing leisurely back and forth around the eastern coast of Jamaica. Since they were technically 'wanted men' in these waters, the captain preferred to keep them in motion. Between getting the watch report from Gibbs and a scant two hours sleep, Jack didn't actually get to talk to Ana until she came up on deck for the last watch before dawn. He had left word to keep him informed, and managed to drift up to the helm almost magically just moments after she took her station. Gibbs was standing right beside him.

"Mr. Gibbs, take the helm." Anamaria, who had looked somewhat sleepy as she took the wheel, threw him a startled look, abruptly wide awake. "Miss Ana, if you'll come with me, please."

They walked back to his cabin, Jack swaying gently with his ship, Ana striding angrily. As soon as the hatchway closed behind them, she crossed her arms on her chest, radiating indignant fury. "Listen, _Captain_, if this is about me bein' late last night, I think I had fair reason -"

"Listen, Ana-"

"Besides. If ye wanted me back sooner ye could've sent into town. It's not like you didn't know where I was stayin'-"

"I know, love. I just -"

"Ye'd think that spending months at sea would be enough to earn someone a bit o' time-" Her voice trailed to a harsh running mumble.

"Ana! If you would _please_ shut up for five minutes, if that's at all possible." He lifted his hands defensively in front of him. "The subject I wish to discuss is only related to last night in the most convoluted manner." His statement had the desired confusing effect, and she frowned at him, sitting with a huff when he indicated a chair. Jack paused for a minute, catching his straying thoughts and deciding on the best phrasing. Finally, he shrugged and put it simply. "I'm wondering if you're interested in staying at Port Royal."

Her eyes widened before she settled into a hurt frown. "You know it's not safe, Jack. For me _or_ Ellis."

"Indeed." He softened his expression, hoping she would relax. "But if you could?"

She shook her head, staring defiantly out the windows. "You don't need the answer to that."

Jack nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. "How is your dear lieutenant, by the way?"

An unusually sentimental smile passed briefly over her face. "He's - fine."

"And you?" Ana tried to look annoyed, but his expression was far too sincere for her to manage it. "How are you holding up, love?" She sighed.

"I'm alright, Jack." Her hand went to a long silver chain at her neck that had replaced the delicate necklace she was wearing when she came onboard. She absently drew the chain out from under her shirt, her fingers playing over the plain gold band that hung from it. "Course it's hard to leave 'im again."

"Ana-" Jack stopped as she looked up at him, and something about her eyes reminded him of the first time he met her. She was younger then, less experienced, but no less proud. He looked at her for a long while.

"What's in yer head, Jack?"

He blinked once or twice, cleared his throat and stood restlessly, pacing over to his desk. Picking up a quill, he turned it in his hands several times. "Swann's offered me a full pardon."

Ana looked dubious. "An' what do ye have to do for it? Turn us all in?"

He shook his head, walked back over to the table and sat down. "No. I just have to help Bootstrap deliver some gems to Crab Island."

She looked like even the name smelled bad. "There's a hell-hole, and no mistake. The waters are teeming with vermin for miles around."

"Aye. But for a full pardon?" His dark eyes glanced up at her from under drawn brows. "Not a bad trade."

Ana tucked the ring back into her shirt, nodding thoughtfully. "Aye, Jack. Sounds more 'n fair to me, which makes me wonder if you're bein' careful enough." Her expression darkened. "But what of the _Pearl_, and the crew?"

"She's free as well. Protected by the crown." He dropped the quill on the table and looked her square in the eye, watching her reaction carefully. "As will be the crew." She stared at him, and slouched suddenly back in her chair.

"Yer jokin'."

"No, it's quite serious."

She stared thoughtfully, her eyes glancing around the cabin. "You know I love the sea, Jack. He's navy; _he'll_ still be sailing…"

"Yes, well." He stood again and walked back to the desk, pulling a leather book out of a pigeonhole and paging through it. "According to the log you were acting captain as well as pilot during the fight with Barbossa and Norrington's men… you and Gibbs made sure the _Pearl_ was made seaworthy before you came to help Will save my neck, which should be worth a bonus at least…" He snapped the book shut and looked at her. "I don't see why, with your increased share, there's not enough here to buy that ship you wanted."

"Go on, Jack, there's not enough for the likes of the _Interceptor_ –"

"There is if I put up half."

Ana stared, a strange expression in her eyes. "Ye'd do that? All you promised after she went down was the chance to get enough gold to buy me own ship." She frowned thoughtfully up at him. "You don't owe me more than a chance."

Sparrow grinned, gold glinting in the lamplight. "I owe you that and more, Ana. And with your own ship you could sail cargo or passage whenever you pleased…" He sat and paused a moment, his dark eyes looking almost vulnerable in the dim lamplight. "Of course… you wouldn't be a pirate anymore."

Her laugh was deep and rich in the confines of his cabin. "Aye, Jack. Don't ye think I'd give up bein' an outlaw to be able to live the life of Missus Ellis Groves?"

Captain Jack Sparrow looked from her hopeful face to the deck, nodded his head slowly. Perhaps doing what was right by his crew would be enough this time. He looked up with a slightly artificial smile.

"No, Ana." Jack reached over and put his hand on her knee. "I know how you feel about him. There's an opportunity here, and I don't see why we shouldn't take it." He smiled more genuinely. "Of course, I'll miss having you around..." She put her hand on top of his, and they sat quietly for a moment. Then Jack stood with a decisive swagger, extended his hand with piratical formality. "Are you willing to go one more round, then?"

Ana looked into his eyes, then stood abruptly to shake his hand with the same bravado. "Aye. It's a pleasure sailin' with ye, Cap'n Sparrow."

"Excellent." He saw her eyes soften once more and turned hurriedly back to his desk. "Now, if you would relieve Mr. Gibbs? And bring us up closer to Bridgewater. I believe the _Esperance_ will be meeting us, so keep a weather eye out."

"Aye, Cap'n." She walked to the door and stopped to look back at him. "Thank you, Jack. Fer both of us."

He nodded without looking up as she left, and managed to move things around on his desk for several minutes before leaving the cabin himself, taking the gangway up on deck to the bow of his ship. He spoke in a barely voiced whisper, seeming to taste the words carefully.

"_The Black __Pearl_. Ship of the crown." His hand trailed lightly over the rail. "We'll be answering to a higher power, love."

The faint blue light of dawn was beginning to color the sky, and in the east, an apricot blush was rising over the horizon like a luminous water lily. Captain Jack Sparrow stood remarkably still as he stared out into the dawning of a new day. Pulling off his scarf and unknotting it absently, he let the breeze blow through his tangled hair.

If it wasn't totally inappropriate for such a legendary pirate, one might say he looked sad.


	5. Where the Rum Went

Many thanks to the gracious readers and reviewers. This chapter is a bit long, and nods to the fact that travel at sea involved a lot of _time_… and storytelling is just part of getting from here to there.

* * *

The clock was struck noon as Governor Swann and Jack Sparrow shook hands in the library of the guest house.

"Then we have an agreement?"

Jack's expression was almost unreadable. "Aye… your honor. We'll take on this delivery in exchange for a full pardon for the _Pearl_ and her crew – and of course, a fair price for the passage."

Swann looked a bit taken aback, but nodded. "I should have assumed that from the start, I suppose." His eyes swept the small gathering a bit nervously. "How soon can you leave?"

Captain William Turner cleared his throat. "As soon as I take on another pilot, Governor. Normally, I wouldn't worry, but it's been a handful of years since I navigated the north coast of Hispaniola."

A bright voice piped up. "I'll go."

"Elizabeth, really."

"And why not? Ana trained me herself."

"Aye, Lizzie, but you've no more experience on that stretch of sea than the good captain does." Jack looked thoughtful for a few moments, then nodded. "You should take Ana, then."

Turner smiled in surprise. "If she's willing, Jack. And if you'll part with her for this sail."

Jack gave a resigned sigh. "Oh, I'll part with her. And I think it bodes well for her to be sailing on a ship such as yours – in case there's any trouble." The two captains exchanged a look that suggested a much longer conversation.

"I'll be glad to have her."

"But Jack, I could –"

"Lizzie. I was expecting you to be backing up the helm. Unless the idea of sailing with this whelp doesn't appeal to you anymore?"

She beamed proudly. "It's perfect. Captain."

"This is ridiculous, Captain Sparrow. My daughter should not –"

"Listen, guv." Jack moved closer to Swann, his voice purring quietly. "You know they're coming, neither one of us can stop that. Better off that she's with a ship that's normal for the waters instead of the ship that's going to draw attention to itself, eh? I mean, really. Who's likely to take on the _Black Pearl_?"

The governor frowned nervously, looked at his daughter and son-in-law. "I can't say I approve, Elizabeth, but it's not my choice. I could keep you off a ship I own, but not his." He looked at Will with something near desperation. "Do you really think it's wise for her to do this?"

"We'll keep an eye on each other." Her eyes sparkled as she looked up, and Will brushed a kiss over her forehead.

"I see." Swann took a deep breath, and looked to Jack. "You will take care of her?"

"What could happen, guv?"

Swann rolled his eyes. "Well, all that remains is to take these, I suppose." The governor lifted two cases onto the table.

"Y'know, I'm curious, guv. These are pretty little things to be sure, but enough to pardon me and the _Pearl_? What makes them so valuable?"

Swann sighed. "I thought you knew, Captain Sparrow. Before Portugal had them, they were part of the French crown jewels. They've been trying to get them back for most of a century."

Jack nodded thoughtfully. "Ah. That much I didn't know."

"This one has the gems. The other is strictly to confuse anyone who is trying to steal them." Looking to William, he shook his head. "I don't want to know how you arrange them. What I don't know I can't tell. But please…" his eyes strayed to his daughter again. "Be careful."

* * *

Elizabeth met Will in the gangway of the _Pearl_ their second day out; he was coming off watch and she was just leaving their cabin. He smiled when he saw her, pinned her against the bulkhead and kissed her, his fingers tangling in her hair. When she pulled away to catch her breath, he looked into her eyes longingly. "You know, darling, there's something about you on a ship –"

"Will." He leaned toward her and she put a finger to his lips, stopping him with a slightly concerned smile. "Jack's in our cabin." He frowned, moved her finger and kissed her anyway. Afterwards he held her, her head resting into the cradle of his shoulder as he spoke.

"Is anything wrong?"

She sighed prettily. "I don't know. He just came in, and _chatted_ a little, small talk… he seemed distracted. I think he needs someone to talk to." Elizabeth looked up into his eyes. "I don't think he's looking for a _sister_ at present." Will's eyebrows lifted as he glanced toward the cabin door. "Maybe he'll talk to you. I promised Anamaria I would pack up some of her things and send them over to the _Esperance,_anyway… did you know this was going to be her last voyage on the _Pearl_?"

"Jack said as much, but didn't seem to want to talk about it."

Elizabeth glanced back at the cabin herself. "I think he might now." She kissed him once more, holding him for a long moment. "Good luck." Will watched as his wife moved down the gangway, thoroughly appreciating what the sway of the ship did for the movement of her hips. With a pleased little sigh, he moved toward their cabin, but stopped short. He looked thoughtfully toward the galley, nodded to himself, and went to get a couple bottles of rum before having a chat with his captain.

Jack was pouring, so Will had to open a second bottle after the first hour. Now it had been closer to two, and Will still had no idea what was going through the captain's mind. He had tried hinting, asking outright, and nearly pleading, but nothing seemed to get a straight answer. With a sigh, he resorted to guesses.

"Is this about Ana?"

The pirate's eyes wobbled toward him, mild outrage in their dark depths. "Ana?"

"I mean… her leaving… are you two…?"

Jack looked indignant. "Have a heart, lad." He took a drink and put his tankard down heavily before barking a laugh. "She'd be my death."

The blacksmith shrugged. "Well, I didn't think so, but the way you're looking tonight is enough to make anyone wonder."

Running a slender finger around the rim of the mug, Jack stared distractedly at the half full bottle on the table. "She's a fine pilot, mind. A real head on her shoulders in a fight."

"Jack…"

Sparrow's eyes lifted to Will's. "No, lad, it's not that she's leavin'. It's… well." He shook his head, rubbed a hand over his eyes tiredly, looked at the younger man for a decisive moment. "It's - the pardon."

Will frowned. "But that's a good thing, yes? I mean, you'll be free to come and go…"

"Aye. Free to be subject to the king."

Will shook his head firmly and immediately regretted the action, even though he was quite sure he'd been drinking far less than the captain. Resting his forehead heavily on his palm, he planted his elbow on the table. "But… we're all subjects to the king."

Jack pointed a finger at him accusingly. "Ah, but that's where we differ, mate. On this ship, I _am_ the king." Will's eyes widened slightly as Jack slumped, went from sovereign to beggar before his eyes. The pirate's voice continued in a low rumble. "For one last voyage, I'm master of my world." He touched a few drops of rum on the table, drew them into rippling patterns. "I swore I'd never bow again, once I had the _Pearl_."

Will waited for him to go on, but after a few silent minutes spoke quietly. "Jack…?"

Sparrow looked up almost as if he had forgotten the boy was sitting across from him. "Say, lad. Did I ever tell you the story of when I first met Anamaria?"

Will blinked at the sudden change in his tone, but remembered that the captain, no matter how he looked, was only ever as drunk as he chose to be. "No, I don't think you have."

"Ah. This is a good one," he chuckled as he refilled their mugs. "It started some five years ago."

_ Her father was a fisherman, and her mother was from __Rio__ Nuevo, so she was born on the northeastern coast of __Jamaica__. Her parents named her for the two harbors they lived between; __St. Ann__'s Harbor to the west, and Port Maria to the east. It should have been no surprise to them that she loved the sea, wanting only to sail with her father on the sparkling blue waters of the __Caribbean__. When she was old enough to realize that women weren't held in the same respect as men on ships, she was also old enough to lie to her advantage. Tight fitting doublets and chopped hair, breeches and floppy hats let her pass as a young man; long enough at least for her to get some experience. She was tough, wiry, quick to anger, and gave no quarter in a fight. She learned her way around the islands, straying further and further from home._

"By the saints, she was a hellion when I met her, that's fer sure."

Will looked up and noticed that Mr. Gibbs had come into the cabin, searching for Jack, he supposed. He sipped his rum slowly, wondered how he missed that. "_You_ met her?"

"Aye. I was navy then. Walkin' back from shore leave –"

"Staggering, more to the point."

"-when this boy starts followin' me, askin' if I'm shipping out. 'E's got a look like a whipped pup. Tells me in a voice that hasn't changed yet that 'e wants to be a cabin boy for the ship, and would I take 'im onboard. Well, I'm three sheets to the wind, I figure it can't hurt to take on another hand.

_ The boy went by the name 'Cesario', although the crew that bothered to learn his name called him Cesar. Like a sponge, Cesar soaked up the ways of the ship –scouring the decks, running the rigging –right up to learning the helm. The crew was impressed with his dogged determination. _

_ For the most part he learned from a young man who had just enlisted in the navy, one Seaman Ellis Groves. They became fast friends, sharing a love of the sea and ruminating on their low positions in the crew. It was clear sailing until the day the Captain decided to spend some quality time with the new cabin boy, who was undoubtedly attractive._

"He tried to – …with Ana?" Will's expression was horrified. "That's terrible."

"Aye, it was." Jack drank deeply from his tankard, but Gibbs shook his head.

"I don't care how horrible it was, Jack; she didn't have to put a knee in."

Will winced and unconsciously crossed his legs. "So what happened?"

"Well now, the captain was in a fury. He threw Cesar in the brig, and, demanded to know who brought the little bugger on board. Since the captain's favorite lieutenant –"

Jack leaned over to point at Will. "That would be Norrington."

"-wasn't thrilled about my drinking, he gave me out an' I was thrown in with 'er." He shook his head, drinking again. "At least that's when I found out she was a 'she'. What I didn't know was that Groves had found out summit sooner, and he was crushed at 'er leavin'. He comes down to the brig and tells her, bold as brass, that he has an uncle on Tortuga holdin' his inheritance. He said she should take 'im a letter, and if she was wearin' his ring, she could take the ship, meet 'im when he docked back at Port Royal."

"_His_ ship?"

"Aye. He'd inherited a fine little schooner from his grandfather, and his uncle was keepin' it safe. They made plans, and promises, and swore their love as only the young can. The next day 'Cesar' and I were put off near Tortuga.

"And of course," Jack said with a glinting smile, "that's where all stories get interesting."

_ The older sailor and the cabin boy walked toward town on their way back from the __Groves__ house. They were in high spirits, talking loudly about how they found the uncle and the boat, and wondering where they'd find a couple more men for the crew. Gibbs suddenly worried at their indiscretion when a strange figure stepped out from behind a tree, and blocked their path. His hair was long and wild, and appeared to have a few strange trinkets threaded into it. Over his shirt he wore an open vest, sashed at the waist and cinched with a leather belt. There was a haunted look in his dark eyes, and he was well armed with both pistol and sword. Gibbs stepped back, keeping himself between the girl and this wild looking pirate. _

_ "Sounds like you two could use an extra hand."_

_ "We're fine. Move along."_

_ "But I'm volunteering, mate. "_

_ Gibbs and Anamaria looked at each other. "It's your choice, lass."_

_ Ana looked back at the man critically. "You're telling me you can sail?" The man looked affronted. _

_ "Milady… I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."_

_ She looked less than impressed. "Sure ye are. And I suppose the _Black Pearl_ is floatin' just offshore."_

_ The dark eyes narrowed for a moment. "The _Pearl_ was stolen from me five years ago." A fleeting flash of anger showed in the tightening of his jaw. "And I have every intention of getting her back." Gibbs squinted thoughtfully at him. _

_ "I think he may be who he says, lass." He stuck out his hand. "Joshamee Gibbs."_

_ "A pleasure, Mr. Gibbs."_

_ Ana considered briefly. "Alright. But we can't pay. I can offer passage to __Port Royal__, no more." The pirate shrugged. _

_ "As good a place as any, love."_

_ The pirate seemed more than helpful as they worked on getting the schooner ready to sail in two days. The evening of the second day Sparrow and Gibbs were drinking in a reasonably quiet corner of a tavern when Gibbs fell asleep on the table in mid-sentence. Sparrow laughed, dropped a few coins for their drinks, and walked out into the evening. He smelled the sea breeze and could already feel the shifting of a ship beneath him. _

_ Automatically slipping into the shadows as two men walked by, he overheard four words of their furtively whispered conversation. '…Barbossa…sail tonight… Isla.' He stood, eyes wide in the darkness. With a nervous glance he looked toward the tavern where Joshamee slept on a table and the girl Anamaria slept in a room upstairs. He looked down to the docks where the schooner _Grove's Queen_ sat in her berth ready to sail, the rest of her small crew already on board._

"You didn't."

"Didn't what, lad?"

Will blinked a few times, trying to get Jack's face to focus properly. "You stole her ship? The ship that belonged to her fiancé?"

"Borrowed," Jack's voice growled from inside his tankard. "And while I was chasing the _Pearl_, a storm hit. We were scuttled, although I stayed with her as long as I could after the rest abandoned ship, ended up on a strange little island. Kraji."

Will shook his head. "What did she tell Ellis?"

Gibbs looked down into his drink. "She didn't, and that's the sorry tale. She was sure he'd never forgive 'er, so she stayed away."

"Oh, Mr. Gibbs. That's so sad."

Will jumped slightly, and slowly turned to see Elizabeth was sitting next to him.

"When did you…""

She patted his arm gently, making sure his mug didn't tip. "Let him finish, Will."

Wobbling back to Jack, Will frowned.

"But how did they ever…" he made vague connecting gestures with his hands, nearly spilling what rum was left.

Gibbs blue eyes brightened as he went on. "Aye, what she didn't count on was that Ellis Groves was a determined man. He was heartbroken, and spent all his shore leaves for the next year and a half piecin' together what had happened that week in Tortuga. After two years he was posted out of the Fort at Port Royal, and every chance he got he would ride up to Rio Nuevo, lookin' for signs of his true love.

Then, a little more'n half a year ago, Jack Sparrow shows up in Port Royal, and commandeered the _Interceptor_ after takin' out the rudder chain of the _Dauntless_." Jack raised his mug in graceful acknowledgement at the implied praise in the older man's voice. "Ana told me later that Groves was standin' right next to that stick Norrington while he stood there fumin', and that Ellis couldn't resist saying, 'that's got to be the best pirate I've ever seen'. He was rememberin' Jack's name from the stories he heard about Ana's disappearing, and hope kindled in his heart that she might be nearby, lookin' for this pirate."

"But… we left Port Royal, to go to Muerta."

"Aye, and Ellis heard all the stories of the fight, and as it happened had leave comin'. When Ana took some time to see 'er family while the _Pearl_ was refitted, Ellis came and found 'er. He convinced 'er to come back to Port Royal and be with 'im after we saved Jack, and she agreed to meet 'im there for a while, anyway." Gibbs looked over at Jack and grinned broadly. "An' the rest is history, as they say."

Will glanced over at Elizabeth, whose eyes were watering. "That's so romantic. True lovers kept apart for so long, and finally finding each other…" Will twined his fingers through hers and smiled. He looked over at Jack.

"You know, a lot of people don't approve of those couples, at least in public. I wonder who married them?"

Jack looked up over the rim of his mug and narrowed his eyes. "Can't imagine."

Bells rang on deck, and Gibbs stood up, draining his tankard. "I'm still on duty, Cap'n. I'll call you at the change."

"Thank you, Mr. Gibbs."

"Captain?"

"Lizzie?"

"The port shrouds have loosened up since we left. Mr. Cotton wanted to know if you wanted them done now."

"Aye, but I want you watching how it's done."

"Aye, Captain." She leaned over and kissed Will, who looked rather bleary. "Get some sleep." He nodded, slouching slightly in his chair. When he and Jack were alone again, he seemed to straighten up, looking at Jack carefully.

"So." Jack's eyes lifted to meet his. "That's why you're doing this? To pay back Ana?"

"No one can pay back the lost years, lad."

"But you'll do your best to try."

The pirate said nothing, but finished his mug and looked mournfully at the empty bottle. Will shook his head with a quiet grin.

"You're a good man, Jack."


	6. Laying In Wait

Elizabeth frowned over the charts on the captain's table, one honey brown ringlet hanging loose from her pulled-back hair. "I don't see why we don't go along the southern coast."

The captain grinned quietly. "It's possible, love, but remember the prevailing wind is from the southeast."

She looked annoyed with herself. "Of course. But… won't it come out about the same, more time or more distance?"

"Close, but there're ports on the north, as well." He ran a slender finger caressingly along the chart of the southern coast of Hispaniola. "You see? Nothing, really, before Santo Domingo. If we have trouble, or need anything…" He glanced up at her as she nodded, a furrowed brow testament to her concentration. "Savvy?"

Her frown broke, and she grinned up at him. "Savvy, Captain."

"Wonderful. Now. Show me the course, and tell me what bearing we take once we're past Tortuga." He stood upright and crossed his arms on his chest expectantly.

Elizabeth took a deep breath and bit her lower lip absently as she stared at the charts, looking for all the world like a student before an exam. "Let's see…"

* * *

Will looked out over the north eastern coast of Hispaniola and nodded thoughtfully. "I'd say we're making good time, Jack."

The captain glanced off to starboard and grinned. "And you'd be right, lad. We made Tortuga in less than three days, even with your father's ship holding us back." He took a deep breath of the sea air and looked up at the sails.

There was the slightest defensive air to Will's reply as he looked back over the stern. "She seems to be keeping up alright."

"Well, you must admit we haven't exactly been pushing her." The captain looked at him with teasing seriousness for a moment, then broke into a smile that sparkled gold in the sun. "Your father's done a fine job with her, Will. You have every right to be proud."

Will looked down at the deck, grinning boyishly. "I am."

"Now, what I need to know is if Lizzie's been teaching you how to man the wheel."

"Elizabeth? I mean, you want _her_ to teach me?"

Jack looked ahead with a self-satisfied grin. "She's a fast learner, lad, a natural. But you probably know that already." Will opened his mouth, but Gibbs was striding toward them and interrupted what would surely have been a cutting riposte in return.

"The _Esperance_ is falling behind, Jack."

Jack turned from the helm and watched off the port quarter for a few minutes, verifying that the other ship was indeed losing ground. He frowned for a moment, then took careful notice of her sails. A golden grin lit his face.

"D'ye want us to shorten sails, Cap'n?"

"No, Mr. Gibbs, he's doing it on purpose."

"On purpose?" Will's voice was surprised.

"Aye. He wants to show me how fast she can catch us back up." He looked up at the _Pearl__'s_ sparsely set sails, which were nicely full. She could easily hold more canvas in this wind, but Captain Sparrow didn't call for a change. He'd show William who had the faster ship when the time came. "Keep an eye out, Mr. Gibbs. Let me know when she raises her sails again."

"Aye, Captain." The older sailor shook his head with a chuckle.

"He must have heard you talking about his ship, Jack." The blacksmith looked back with competitive cheerfulness.

"Indeed." The spark in the captain's dark eyes was brighter than Will had seen since they left Port Royal as he purred softly. "We'll see, Captain Turner."

The _Esperance_ had dropped back perhaps half a mile when the call came from Gibbs up on the quarterdeck. "She's puttin' on canvas, Jack."

Will turned to him expectantly. "Raise sails?"

Jack looked like the cat that ate the canary. "Let her get her speed up, first." With a sense of determined ignorance, Jack didn't look back for another quarter hour. Gibbs called out the report.

"The _Esperance_ off the port quarter, Cap'n, and she's got quite a bone in her teeth."

Word spread fast on the ship, and many of the crew off duty had come up on deck to watch. They alternatively cheered and shook their fists at the ship speeding up behind them, and more than one bet was placed on the spur of the moment. Gibbs, for his part, watched Jack instead of the _Esperance_, and when the captain finally looked back with exaggerated casualness, motioned for the men to be ready.

Jack studied their positions for a few moments, then looked forward again, speaking quietly. "Now, Mr. Gibbs."

The deck seemed to brighten as full sails billowed into place, reflecting the afternoon sun. The _Esperance_ was close enough now that the sailors could hear the catcalls from their deck as well, and Will could see his father at the helm, standing every bit as proudly as Jack was. He laughed as Elizabeth came up beside him.

"He's still gaining."

She shook her head. "I can't believe it's the same ship. It's amazing."

Will looked up at the _Pearl__'s_ sails and shook his head. "But we're picking up speed. There's no way…"

Sure enough, the _Pearl_ slowly pulled ahead. Not fast enough for Captain Jack Sparrow, who narrowed his eyes as he looked back, calling over to Will. "He's bewitched 'er, lad."

"Well, you said he was good at fitting out a ship."

"Aye." He called out for a few adjustments on the sails, and the _Pearl_ increased her lead. "He's done 'er credit, and that's the truth. Good on seeing potential, your father. Stands behind what he knows." A smallish grin danced across the pirate's lips. "Good man."

Will smiled, then narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, staring up at the _Pearl__'s_ sails. "Jack? Who worked on setting the _Pearl__'s _sails?"

Jack looked over at the boy. "That would be William Turner. Back when he was a lowly ship's carpenter, of course. T'was the _captain_ that really made the difference."

"Of course."

Will looked back toward the other ship, and Jack had to glance down at the young man's feet to make sure they were still touching the deck. With an easy chuckle he looked back to the bow, back to concentrating on proving that no one, not even William Turner, was going to captain a faster ship than the _Black Pearl_.

The ships raced from Hispaniola across the north coast of Puerto Rico for two days and nights, the _Pearl_ pulling slowly but steadily farther ahead. By the time night was falling the third day, they were within reach of the eastern end of the island.

It was Will that noticed the captain seemed a bit tense as the lanterns were lit for the evening, looking back toward the _Esperance_ even as he called out for them to slow. "Mr. Gibbs, shorten the sails."

"Jack?" Sparrow looked over at him, dark eyes unreadable in the shadows, and said nothing. "Is something wrong?"

The pirate glanced back again, shook his head. "I'm hoping not."

"Then why-"

"Captain!" A voice cried out from the quarterdeck. "There's two red lanterns on the bow of the _Esperance_!"

Will frowned as Jack yelled for them to drop sails. "What's going on?"

"Is she still coming on, Mr. Gibbs?"

"Aye, Cap'n."

"Jack?"

"She's in trouble, that's what. Rouse the men. There may be fighting." He called back to Will as the ship shuddered violently against the sudden change. "You may want to get Lizzie below-"

"I think not, Captain." Elizabeth Turner stood at the top of the gangway, her hair pulled back, the sword that William had made her as a wedding gift strapped to her hip. "Who are we fighting?"

Will looked over at her, shook his head. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." Their eyes met, and he nodded in resignation, grasping her hand.

"Promise you'll be careful."

She allowed a small grin. "I've had a good teacher."

The moon slipped out from heavy bars of cloud and shone like Spanish silver in the night, its glimmering light illuminating the sea. As the _Esperance_ came up on their port side, they saw three small ships making for her, probably out of somewhere near San Juan. Jack cursed under his breath.

"Grapples and deck across! We're in this with her."

Will stood with his sword in hand as ropes flew across the water, connecting the two ships. The smoothness of the operation made it clear that Jack and his father had discussed the possibility beforehand. He looked over at the _Pearl__'s_ captain and saw the bright anger in his eyes.

"Jack?"

"They were waiting for us." The pirate winced as the ships touched, grinding the finish as men began to cross over to the _Esperance_. The first sword blows were ringing in the night, steel glimmering. "Your father's got a traitor onboard. He was afraid of that."

"How do you know?"

Jack pointed with his sword. "Look."

Two men were running across the deck, far from the main body of sailors fighting. They carried a bag that was holding something square and book-sized. Will's jaw dropped as he jerked forward, held back by Jack's hand. "We've got to stop them!" He looked back to the captain and saw a golden sparkle in the moonlight.

"They don't have anything, lad. Nothing real." Their eyes met and Will's expression changed to one of pleased surprise.

"Then we have the real ones?"

Jack was grinning when a noise behind him made him spin gracefully, sword at the ready. A man fell at their feet, and they looked from him up to Gibbs, who was catching his breath as wiped his sword on the thief's shirt. "More water rats, Jack. They're comin' up the starboard." He shook his head. "Looks like more'n six of the boats now. We've been right ambushed."

"Aye."

The three men raced to the other side of the ship, fighting off the dark-clad men as they found them. The sound of metal on metal from above made Will look up, just in time to step aside when he heard Elizabeth's yelled warning as she knocked an intruder from the upper deck. It landed in a heap at Will's feet, and he smiled up at her and returned the gesture when she saluted him with her sword. Suddenly her gaze tore away from him, and she pointed with her weapon.

"Captain!"

Will turned to see Jack Sparrow leaning toward one of the men, his sword lifted in challenge. A few graceful moves and it was over – and the captain turned to them with a grin. "I can't say I'm impressed with –" Suddenly he jerked forward, as if someone had pushed him. A man in black darted from the shadows behind him, carrying a wooden case as he leapt noiselessly over the side of the ship.

Elizabeth screamed in horror as Will ran over to his side. "Jack!" Captain Jack Sparrow staggered for a moment, frowning at them. Then he looked down.

"That's interesting. That's…" He swallowed hard as he stared at four inches of pointed steel that stuck out of his chest, a hand and a half below his left shoulder. His eyes traveled slowly back to Will, and his mouth opened, although nothing came out.

"Jack."

Elizabeth was at his side, helping to keep him from falling as Will looked at the sword. "I've got to get this out."

"Hardly any point, lad." Will looked at the blade and his expression tightened.

"Gibbs!" The older sailor was there in a moment.

"Looks like we've gotten rid of them all, Cap-" His face blanched as he saw the three of them. "By the saints, Jack."

He took one look at Will and nodded, positioning himself to keep Jack from falling hard. Will took a deep breath and pulled out the blade. Jack slumped to his knees with Gibbs, and Elizabeth untied her sash, wadding it up and pressing it into his chest to stop the flow of blood. Several more men appeared, and between them they lay the captain down on the deck.

Captain Turner and Anamaria, who had crossed over from the _Esperance_ to make sure there was no more threat, quickly found out what had happened and ran to the gathering crowd around Jack. It parted to let them through, and William dropped to one knee next to his old friend. He looked at the wound and gave Jack a forced grin.

"Still collecting scars, eh, Captain?"

The pirate nodded, a bare grin on his face as he spoke in a whisper.

"They got the case, William."

The older man nodded. "Well, we were right, anyway."

"Aye."

Elizabeth was still pressing the bloody cloth to his chest, and her voice was very quiet as she looked up at her father-in-law from where she knelt. "Will he be alright?"

William looked down at the pirate and back to her eyes. "He's Captain Jack Sparrow." Jack chuckled at that, but the laugh cost him as he arched against the pain. "Easy, friend." Turner looked up at Will, who was standing very quiet with the offending weapon in his hand. "Will?"

The boy's eyes were wet as he held up the sword, and his father frowned as he looked at it. The blade was dirty under the blood, pitted and rusted. Will swallowed hard as he met his father's eyes, shook his head slowly.

Captain Turner nodded. "Alright, Jack. Looks like we've got to get you cleaned up."

Jack spoke in a slurred whisper. "Like I tol' the whelp, hardly any point, William. We both know the cut won't kill me." He coughed again, and his face contorted for a moment before he got it under control again. "Mr. Gibbs." The older sailor dropped down to get closer as Jack's voice faded. The pirate fumbled with his good arm at something on his belt, and finally handed over his compass. "See that they're delivered safe, man."

"Aye, Captain."

Jack seemed to sigh as his eyes closed.

Elizabeth's tears fell quickly. "Is he-"

"No. Thank God he's unconscious, though." William looked at his son. "It'll infect for sure, won't it."

Will nodded, blinking hard. His father looked back down at the captain of the _Black Pearl_, then up to Ana. "Is there anyone?"

The dark woman started at the sudden question, then looked at the sea around them as if she were in the middle of a city, looking for a familiar landmark. "Aye. There's a healer on Palomino Island, or was." She squinted in the darkness, pointed east. "A couple o' hours."

Will looked up. "Let's get going, then."

His father looked at him. "We've still got to make the delivery."

"Of what? They took both cases!"

Turner looked at Gibbs, who nodded and flipped open Jack's compass. Wedged tightly inside the case were two small silk bags.

Will's eyes widened as he looked down at his unconscious captain. "How did he know?"

"Like I said. He's Captain Jack Sparrow."


	7. Palomino Island

It took a while, but I think I know where the story's going now. *sigh*. It's about time they told me…

As always, many gracious thanks to the readers and reviewers…

* * *

Will stood staring at the circle of faces around the fallen pirate. "Deliver the gems first? Jack can't wait that long. We've got to get him help."

"No, Will." The younger Turner looked at his father in shock.

"But - he's your friend. How can you –"

"He _is_ my friend. And I'll respect his wishes." Standing from where he knelt at Jack's side, Bootstrap moved closer to his son. "He was willing to risk everything to get the pardon for his crew. I've got to make sure it happens." Will frowned at him, wide-eyed, before his gaze drifted back down to the deck where Jack lay silent. Elizabeth saw the torment in his face, and frustration choked back her tears.

"There has to be _something_..."

Captain Turner looked around thoughtfully, then nodded slowly. "If we carry on around the coast, come down on the leeward side of Crab Island, then we'll pass within range of Palomino. One of those could take him ashore." His hand pointed off to one of the small ambush boats that had been left crewless after the attack. He looked back to Will. "I promised I'd deliver the goods." The question was left unspoken in the dark, but Will nodded instantly.

"I'll take him."

"I'm coming with you." Will nodded without looking over at his wife.

"Can you sail it?"

"We'll manage."

"Should I take the _Pearl_, Cap'n."

"No, Ana. I want you with me." Ana looked surprised, perhaps angry for a moment. He went on. "We're still the ship to attack if they find out they've been had. Mr. Gibbs." The older pirate, who had been standing, staring down at his old friend and captain, shook his head back to the present.

"Aye?"

"The _Pearl_is yours."

Joshamee Gibbs stared Bootstrap in the eye for a long moment. "No, she's not." He looked back down at Jack, who was pale and still. "But I'll hold 'er for him."

* * *

Dawn's light was beginning to paint streaks of red on the eastern horizon by the time the two ships drew close to Palomino Island. They halted, to put the three on one of the small, single sailed craft. Ana frowned in concentration as she went over the idiosyncrasies of the smaller ships with Will.

"There's an old ship's bell, they say, on the shoreline. Ring it when ye beach, and she should come." They looked at each other as Will nodded, and she shook her head. "I should be goin' with ye."

"No, Ana. You need to make sure everything goes smoothly with the delivery." Will wasn't sure why, but if his father and Jack both wanted Ana to stay on the _Esperance_, they must have their reasons. In his heart he wished she were coming with them. They could use her experience. "We'll be alright."

"Aye, if she's still there."

"She will be." Elizabeth broke in, as she looked fiercely off toward the island where the morning sun was flaring golden-white onto the canopy of the trees. "She has to be."

Ana nodded. "Cap'n says we'll wait three hours, just in case."

* * *

Palomino Island was a tiny point of land off the northeast end of Puerto Rico. Just over a hundred acres, it still managed to possess the tropical beauty of the larger islands, complete with dense forest, soft beaches, and even a few caves in its higher, volcanic southern coast. A spring fed stream ran off a grassy plateau like a thread of liquid moonlight, and one horse picked out a living there above the southern cliffs - the last survivor of a passing Spanish galleon that avoided one of the leeward isles only to raze its hull against the rocky southern coast. Too insignificant to be charted, too abrupt to be seen by their lookout in the murky blackness of a storm-tossed night. Other than the cliffs that rose in the south, the rest of the coastline was for the most part sandy beach that swept gently down to the sea.

Will was keeping the sail trim in the tiny boat they had acquired, and Elizabeth sat amidships cradling Jack's head in her lap. Cautiously she lifted a corner of the blood-soaked rag on his chest, and winced as she saw the torn and bloody skin, already a nasty color around the edges even though they had cleaned it as best they could. Thank God for the ship's store of rum, which was more alcohol than anything. She glanced up at Will. "Not much fresh bleeding."

"Not much blood left." He regretted saying it as soon as he saw her eyes fill again, but couldn't help feeling that this would-be brother had given up, and was slipping away even as he watched. The pirate lay perfectly still, his skin a pallid alabaster beneath straggling dark hair. Will shook his head. _Damn it, Jack. You don't have to give up being a pirate if you don't want to. Don't leave us without a fight. _His eyes drifted to Elizabeth, and the unsteadiness of those normally strong, brown eyes gave her stomach a little lurch.

"Do you really think…"

Elizabeth glanced away only for a moment, marshalling her strength for him. "Yes. Ana seemed to think so. She said that she'd heard that this healer had 'spit in death's face' more than once." She looked back to her husband with a forced smile. "Although she said it a bit more colorfully, I admit."

He grinned back at her gratefully, but quickly busied himself with adjusting their course as he brought them up to shore. "There's the bell."

Clearly they were not the first visitors to this island. A wooden barrel held a painter up a couple yards from shore, so that boats too large to drag up on the beach could be tied securely. Will grabbed the end and made the ship fast, hopping over the side to find the water was just above his waist. He pulled the ship a little farther in before leaning over the hull to lift Jack from Elizabeth, carrying him in strong arms carefully through the water and up to a small shelter. Elizabeth followed behind him and walked over to the right of the shelter, where a bamboo framework held an old ship's bell four feet over the sand. She glanced at Will, who nodded, and pulled the rope several times. They waited.

* * *

Half an hour later, they were losing hope. Elizabeth sighed. "Is there anything _we_ can do for him, then?"

"Let's not give up quite yet."

"I'm not giving up. I'm just –" She dropped her head back and looked up at the bright morning sky. "I feel so helpless."

"I know."

They rang the bell again, as they had been doing every ten minutes since they landed. "Ana said that it might take a while-" she lifted her head to look at Will, and gasped abruptly.

A woman was standing several feet behind him where the jungle forest thinned to the beach, regarding them with reserved interest. Her skin was the honey rose shade of a native of the Americas, and her long braided hair was dark, as were her eyes. She wore a worn cotton shirt similar to what Will had on, but it seemed curiously out of place on her, and was a soft greenish brown color, belted with a long, dark burgundy sash. The leggings she wore were reddish brown, and her feet were bare.

Will turned at Elizabeth's expression, and quickly stood to face the woman. "Hello."

She looked at him carefully, then Elizabeth, then stepped over to where Jack lay, dropping gracefully to her knees. Her hands moved over his chest gently, lifting the cloth and probing the wound. Jack groaned, and she laid a hand over his heart for a moment until he quieted. Looking up at Will, she called him over with a gesture to help her roll Jack to his side. When they did, she examined his back as well, carefully, quietly. Will and Elizabeth looked at each other. She had not yet spoken a word. Will shrugged at his wife as the woman laid Jack back down. "My name is Will Turner. This is Elizabeth."

The smallest smile curved her lips as she continued to look at Jack. "You give your names very quickly." Standing, she looked at them both, her hand gesturing gracefully at the pirate behind her. "His is all I will need."

Will's eyes narrowed. "Jack Sparrow. Captain Jack Sparrow."

She moved closer to them. "You have the weapon that did this?"

"Yes." He looked back toward the boat. "Shall I get it?"

She nodded without speaking.

As the woman stood waiting, Elizabeth frowned a little. It appeared she was ready to help them, but there was something unnerving about her. Perhaps it was the hawk-like observant stare, or her sparse but clearly educated speech. Trying to gauge, Elizabeth guessed the woman might be ten years her senior, but it was difficult to tell. Finally she cleared her throat. "Please. Will you be able to help him?"

The woman looked back at her with an almost lazy intensity, like a hunting jungle cat. "I will do what I can."

At that moment Will returned from the boat, carrying the offending sword. "I didn't clean it off yet."

"Good." She took it and pulled the cloth it had been wrapped in away, letting the fabric drop to the sand. Running her fingers over the blade and hilt, her eyes seemed to lose focus, and then close. She nodded. "Bring him. Then you can leave."

"Leave?" Will and Elizabeth spoke in surprise at the same time. Will went on. "We're not leaving our friend."

"You will." The woman began walking into the jungle, and Will scooped up Jack to follow her. "I cannot help him with your fear so close. I will do what I can, but you must return to your ship." She walked with easy grace through the trees, occasionally resting a hand on the trunk of a palm as they passed, almost in greeting. In ten minutes they reached a hut in the midst of the jungle, framed with bamboo and roofed with palm thatch. The woman stopped at the door, turned to look at the trees and to make sure the couple were still following. Pulling back the cloth that hung in lieu of a door, she gestured with the sword and nodded for Will to take Jack inside. He did so, resting him carefully on the bed.

Inside, the small house was simply furnished. It seemed the home of someone who wasn't there too often, but might need the shelter in case of weather. An eclectic collection of artifacts also spoke of someone who had traveled much, or had visitors who did. Woven cotton blankets draped the bed in bright tribal colors and oddly shaped bottles sat in a row on a short set of drawers, next to a ship's lantern. Small carvings and trinkets coexisted in unlikely juxtapositions, but somehow didn't feel cluttered. All was in balance. Shuttered windows were currently open, letting the soft breeze in. Moving to a mismatched collection of pans, the woman filled one with water from a jug, picking up a soft cloth as well.

Elizabeth, looking around, couldn't contain her curiosity. "Where are all these things from?"

The woman glanced up as if she had forgotten they were still here. "You are not the first to seek the aid of the witch of Palomino Island."

"Oh..."

The couple stood, feeling helpless as she placed the pan over a small firepit, adding some brown leaves that released a fragrant smoke to the fire before moving toward the door. She looked back at them. "Now that I know what I need, I must find it. If he will be well, it will be at least two weeks."

She stepped out the door cloth, pausing in mid-stride as Will called to her. "But – we don't even know your name. What shall we call you? Surely not 'the witch of the island'?" His frustration broke through in an almost sarcastic tone.

Looking back with a wry smile, she paused before responding. "What you will."

They looked at each other again, and something in her expression reached straight to Will's soul. In a moment, without quite knowing why, he felt he trusted her. "Do you need anything else from us, Milady?"

She stared back at him, her eyes darkly luminous. "Yes. You must leave." With a deep breath she added, "and trust." Then she was gone.

Will and Elizabeth stood for a long moment in the hut, staring at the door, then each other. Their eyes finally moved to where Jack was stretched limply on the bed.

"What do we do?"

Will looked at the pirate who was breathing shallowly, and back to Elizabeth. "We leave." He walked over to the bed and put his hand on Jack's. "We'll be back for you, Jack." His head bowed for a second before he turned to leave. Elizabeth ran a hand softly over his arm and stepped past her husband to the bed. Leaning over, she kissed Jack gently on the forehead.

"Don't go anywhere, Captain."

With that they turned and left the hut, walked as if in a dream back to the smaller boat, and caught an unusual, fortunate breeze that sped them from the island back to their ship.


	8. Unquiet Seas

I wanted to get this up for the weekend… busy at work but hey, a woman can cheat a little, can't she? Much love to the readers and reviewers, who will want to hang me… *sigh*…

* * *

Waiting was taking its toll on two impatient crews. Mr. Gibbs, temporarily in charge of the _Pearl_, busied his men with washing down the decks after the fight; the _Esperance_ crew mended a sail that had been sliced across by a particularly ambitious attacker. The tasks, however, didn't take that long or use all hands, and soon the men were growing restless once more. Although only one man was the assigned lookout on the _Esperance,_ at least five voices sang out simultaneously that the small boat was on its way back. Discipline fell by the wayside as men strained for news of their captain.

Captain Turner stood at the rail with apparent calm, adjusting the telescope as he squinted against the sunlight sparkling off the blue, trying to see into the small boat carrying Will and Elizabeth. Ana was at his side, watching as well. Her voice went quiet. "They've given up, then?"

The captain shook his head. "I don't think so. I don't see Jack."

Gibbs, who had crossed over to wait with them, looked shocked. "They left the Captain behind?"

"Aye, they would've. From what I've heard, she may take someone on to help 'em, but she doesn't brook visitors." Anamaria sighed quietly. "They must've found her, then."

Turner nodded as he closed the telescope, calling for the crew to be ready to take on the two returning in the boat and to separate the ships that were still grappled together. It almost looked as if the huge vessels were huddling near to comfort each other.

"Let's just pray that this woman can help him, and get on with what we must do." It was clear, though, as he continued to stand staring off toward the island - some part of him would stay behind.

* * *

In the small boat, Elizabeth sat amidships, facing back toward the island as she leaned against the relatively short, single mast and stared quietly out to sea. They hadn't spoken a word since leaving Jack behind, and she was feeling progressively less secure in that decision. Her focus found Will, and he gave her a tight, reassuring smile.

"I think it was the right thing to do, darling."

"I think so too. But now…I'm afraid."

He stretched out his hand and leaned forward from the rudder while she leaned back to touch his fingers with her own. "I trust her, Elizabeth." His dark eyes were shining wide. "I'm not even sure why. But if anyone can help him…"

"I know." She sat upright again, blinking hard, and took a deep breath. "Do you think she's really a witch?"

Will exhaled a humorless laugh in the face of his fears. "I'm not sure I even know what would make her a witch. But I don't care what she is, if she can keep him alive..." With an effort he shook off the morbid images his mind was throwing at him, and for a moment his eyes sparkled with genuine humor as he pictured his friend alive and well, coming face to face with the taciturn healer. "Can you imagine Jack waking up there?"

Elizabeth considered a moment, then smiled. "He'll be a bit surprised." Abruptly she looked concerned again. "Do you think we should have left a note, or some token? What if he thinks we've deserted him?"

"He knows better, Elizabeth." Looking forward, Will saw the side of the _Esperance_ coming up quickly. "Best bring that sail down. We're almost home."

* * *

"Did she say she could help him, then?"

"To tell you the truth, she didn't say much of anything, father."

The captain of the _Esperance_ fidgeted with a small, carved wooden bird that normally perched on his desk, turning the image over and over in his hands. Will looked with concern at his wife, whose eyes showed her agreement without having to say anything aloud. Bootstrap Turner had returned to his old, solid self since the curse was lifted from him, and the fact that he was moving with nervous restlessness was more of a testimony to his worry about Jack than any words he might say.

"How was he when you left him?"

"Still unconscious. But he seemed… as comfortable as we could make him."

The captain nodded, stood to pace to the heavy windows of his cabin where the group had gathered for a few quiet moments before splitting up and starting off again. Compared to Jack Sparrow's opulent quarters on the _Pearl_, Turner's cabin was positively Spartan. Still, it was the largest onboard the _Esperance,_ and Jack himself had made sure that his old friend had the best bed that money could buy. Oddly enough, it looked relatively untouched, and Elizabeth noticed with a small pang that there was a worn hammock strung in a nook near the windows.

Standing at those windows, William seemed to come to a decision. "Let's get moving, then. According to Governor Swann, we're to deliver the gems to a private estate on the southeastern coast, someplace called…" he stepped back to his desk, opened a leather logbook. "Here it is. Esperanza." He looked up at Will with a wry grin. "Ironic. The ship's name is Latin, the estate Spanish, but they mean the same thing."

Elizabeth frowned and was about to ask a question when Gibbs broke in.

"Well now, Bootstrap, you're the captain of this pretty little armada. What course, and how long are we sailin'?"

The captain moved over to the chart tacked to his wall, and Gibbs joined him as he indicated their route, nodding thoughtfully. "Weather permitting, we should be there in less than three days."

"Aye."

The two men shook hands, and Mr. Gibbs turned to go. "Good sailing to you, Captain Turner."

"And to you. If anyone can take care of her, you can."

The older pirate nodded with a resigned look. "Elizabeth, I'll be needing you on the _Pearl_. Will?"

The younger Turner looked at his father before answering Gibbs and smiled. "We'll be along in a minute." A slightly shocked expression on Elizabeth's face made his head tilt before he understood. "If that's alright, ah…Captain."

Joshamee Gibbs stiffened slightly. "I'll thank ye not to call me 'captain' of Jack's ship." After the barest pause he allowed a slow grin. "But 'sir', now, that'll be fine." He threw them a smirk as he stopped at the hatch of the cabin, nodded to them all. "Take what time ye need, lad. But the sooner we're off, the sooner we'll be back for 'im."

Will stepped over to his father, and they embraced warmly.

"Be careful, son. One ambush may not be enough for them."

"We'll be ready." He grasped his father's hand and shook it before he stepped back, letting his wife take her turn. Elizabeth hugged her father-in-law and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

The captain smiled after them as they left his cabin, then paced over to the chart on the wall when he was alone once more. His voice was quiet as he mumbled to himself. "Three days there, three back… no telling what the delivery will bring." Glancing across to the windows again, he sighed. "We'll do our best, Jack. Just be here when we come."

The weather had its own ideas.

* * *

Less than a day toward the windward coast of Crab Island, the wind changed. Lookouts on both ships pointed at the gray horizon and reported to their captains that weather was on its way, and as the wind became irregular and gusty, both ships shortened their sails. The wind blew colder, bringing a greenish-gray bank of cloud out of the east. Dusk came early, and the rain began slowly at first, a drizzling cold fog. The _Esperance_ raised a series of small flags in signal, and the _Pearl_ responded in kind. Soon the _Pearl_ fell back, increasing the distance between the two ships.

"What's going on?" Elizabeth, who had just come up from below, turned to Will as they watched his father's ship pull ahead and move off to their starboard in the channel between Puerto Rico and Crab Island.

"There's a storm coming. We're splitting up so we don't collide in the night if this gets worse."

She nodded, but frowned with concern as she watched the shrinking image of the _Esperance_. "It feels like it will."

"Yes." Will looked at her, loose waves of her hair blowing in frantic little circles as the wind picked up its odd dance. "We're to make all fast." Elizabeth nodded and gave him a smile as he leaned over to kiss her before parting to their respective tasks.

By midnight Elizabeth was on duty at the helm, and the storm was reaching its peak. Lightning flashed, giving her irregular visions of waves that were growing steadily higher. Worse than that was the rain, which was falling in rippling sheets, obscuring what little vision she had. Joshamee Gibbs appeared at her side, watching in the night.

"How's she holdin', Miss Elizabeth?"

The girl grimaced as she fought the wheel. "She's not happy with me, but we'll be alright."

Gibbs grinned as water ran down his face. "Aye. Jack's the only one she really likes in a storm." He looked around, checked the compass bearing by the light of the lantern he carried, and nodded. "Yer doin' a fine job, lass."

His tone was of one professional to another, and she shot him a tight smile. "Thank you."

"I half expected your boy to be up here, tryin' to help."

This time she laughed, even as the rain ran into her eyes and the ship wallowed drunkenly in a trough. "He is helping. Will is sound asleep in our cabin, because he trusts me."

Gibbs chuckled as he swayed, walking back toward the bow of the ship to check the watch. "Aye. Smarter'n he looks, that one."

She smiled again, then became more serious as she looked up to check the masts in another flash of light. One topsail had begun to flutter loose, and Gibbs was calling to Duncan to climb up and fix it. For a moment an old memory made Elizabeth falter as the ship was caught by another wave, but she righted her as best she could. Somewhere in her mind she heard a voice purring quietly. _'C'mon, Lizzie. Keep her steady. I know you can do it, love.'_ Nodding gratefully at nothing that could be seen, she pulled the _Pearl_ into the wind and held on.

* * *

At midnight on the _Esperance_, Captain Turner released the wheel to Anamaria after she checked the compass bearing. "Try to keep her nose in the wind. It's going to be messy for a while."

"Aye, cap'n." The dark woman wiped the back of her hand against her face, the last time she would try to dry it for hours. The ship heaved itself over another wave, sliding down the other side as if it were made of ice. Ana took a deep breath and shook her head against the tension building in her shoulders. Cursing quietly, she tried to keep the ship steady. It was her first storm in the _Esperance_, and every ship handled differently in the bad wind and weather.

Her concentration was on feeling for the handling of the ship… which was probably why she didn't notice they had veered northward again in the wind.

* * *

It was Gibbs who saw them first. His voice boomed out over the sound of the wind and waves. "Hard a port!"

In a flash of lightning, Elizabeth saw the _Esperance_ coming down a rise directly toward their starboard side. If she hadn't turned the wheel as soon as she heard Gibbs yell, they would have lost a piece of their bow to the other ship. Yelling was heard on the other deck as well, and soon the ships were a safer distance apart. Elizabeth called out to no one in particular as she struggled with the ship. "Find me some quiet!" Moments later, the lookout sang that land was near. They were above the western point of Crab Island, where the sea had carved smooth bays into the beaches, bookended with spires of cliff. As they closed on the leeward side, the wind dropped abruptly, and Elizabeth caught her breath as she managed to get them closer to the sandy shore. "Drop anchor!"

Gibbs had returned to the helm, and saw the young woman hanging savagely onto the wheel, her soaking hair hanging in her eyes. Her expression was fierce, but it softened when she looked at him. "I'm sorry. But it was just too…" She faltered for a moment, and he stepped closer to her.

"Ye did fine, lass. It makes sense for us to harbor here 'til it blows over." Elizabeth sagged a bit, nodded.

"Thank you."

"No, thank you." He put his hand on her shoulder. "That was as fine a bit of piloting as I've seen. Jack'd be proud." Only then did her eyes begin to water, as she nodded and looked down at the sodden deck. "Listen, get yerself below and dry. I'll take my watch now."

"But… I've hardly served my time." She looked up into his steel-gray eyes as he laughed.

"You were fightin' with her for well over three hours, Elizabeth."

"I was?"

"Aye. So go get your sleep, and I'll call you in the mornin'. Maybe we'll find out what happened to get the _Esperance_ that far lost in the dark, and with Ana at the wheel, too."

Even in the shelter of the harbor the waves made Elizabeth stumble as she staggered back toward the gangway, and almost fell into Will's arms as he met her at the top of the stairs. "Sweetheart." He held her tight, and she dropped her head on his shoulder. "Duncan woke me, told me what happened." She nodded, still saying nothing. "Are you alright, darling?"

"Yes." Her voice was small but still strong. "I'm just… very tired."

"Let's get you to bed, then." He slipped an arm around her waist and walked with her, supporting her inconspicuously as they made their way back to their cabin. As she sat down in the chair next to their bed, he knelt to take off her boots. She blinked at him sleepily.

"Will?"

"Yes?"

"What does _Esperance_ mean?"

He chuckled quietly as he stood to help her undress. "Hope." Their eyes met, and she gave him a small smile.

"Oh. Good." She was asleep before she touched the bed.


	9. Kindred Spirits

Sorry it's taken so long to update - I can't believe it's Friday already… but work has been so insane. Next week it should peak and then pine… I hope. Many thanks to the readers and reviewers.

* * *

He startled, hearing the wind singing in the rigging, the sails flapping loose with a noise like wet leather against the mast.

_Storm.__ I should be at the wheel. _

The thought registered even as his body bypassed his brain, leaping from his bed to run up on deck. Or trying to.

Pain screamed through his chest as he jerked his body up, only to fall back gasping a curse. A strong but gentle hand on his forehead seemed to clear it, and the pain ebbed without disappearing entirely. His eyelids fluttered and opened, only to blink firmly shut a moment later.

_I'm not on the _Pearl_. Then where…_

Captain Jack Sparrow, scourge of the Spanish main, tried with muddied difficulty to piece together what had happened. The last thing he remembered clearly was the ambush, the little upstart who dared to cross blades with him… the snap and sizzle of his mind in the heat of battle, feeling his arm create the parries rather than thinking them through. The pinked coward had gone over the side, and he remembered turning to Will with a laugh… then a strange push from behind, his shoulder curiously warm, Lizzie screaming. In his memory he looked down towards his chest, saw metal that should never have been there.

_Bloody hell._

He opened his eyes again, cautiously, as if he were peeking around a corner.

A hand, still on his forehead, was connected by the usual means to an arm and eventually the shoulder of a woman who was leaning slightly over him, her eyes half closed and her head tilted as if she were listening for something. After a moment she reached for a small, shallow bowl near the bed. Slipping her hand gently behind him, she lifted him slightly so he could drink. He looked at her suspiciously, but she held his eyes with a calm gaze. His expression was a kind of shrug as he sipped the liquid, and she held it back, not letting him drink too quickly. He'd forgotten how thirsty dying made him.

When she rested his head back on the bed, his suspicion gave way to curiosity while his mind continued to clear. The woman standing over him looked like a native of the islands, carried herself with that same primitive, elegant beauty. Her eyes were dark, her thick hair hanging in a long braid that had fallen over one shoulder when she leaned forward. After watching him carefully for a long minute, she nodded slightly and stood to move away.

"Are you, by chance, an angel?" His voice was less cocky than he would have liked.

Her eyes met his, eyebrows quirked, and she shook her head.

"Then I'm not dead yet."

This time her mouth curved slightly. "No."

He nodded, thoughtful. "Ah. That explains a few things." He tried to take a deep breath and felt the mistake instantly, although he couldn't stop a typically sardonic remark. "And as I recall," he panted shallowly against the pain while she placed a hand gently on his chest, "being dead didn't hurt this much."

His breathing eased slowly and she stood over him, shaking her head.

"You've died often?"

He looked at her, wondering what she was doing that made him stop hurting that way, or at least made the pain move somewhere out of the front of his mind. "Once or twice." She nodded, moved to walk over to the fire again. "I suppose you don't believe me."

Taking some small stems and stripping the leaves from them, she added them to a pot of water on the fire. He thought he heard a sigh, but couldn't be sure. "I believe you, Captain Jack Sparrow. I've seen it." She turned to look at him, and he felt as if his soul was laid bare under those eyes.

He tried to remember what else had happened. Will and Lizzie, their expressions more frightening than the sword through his shoulder; William helping him with an old, familiar humor overlaying his fears; handing Gibbs the compass… his fingers strayed down to his sash, and he verified that the case was gone. He hoped that he'd actually handed it over, and not lost it after the fight, only dreaming that he'd gotten it safely to the old pirate. Clearing his throat very carefully, he spoke in a quiet rumble without opening his eyes again.

"I don't suppose you can tell me who brought me here? Or just where _here_ might be, for that matter?"

"Palomino Island."

His eyes opened in some surprise as he stared at her. "So that would make you…"

"Yes?"

"Actually, I've never heard your name. Not one that I would repeat. You're a bit of a legend, milady."

Her lips curved slightly again, and she took a deep breath. "If that's true, it makes two of us, Captain Jack Sparrow."

The watched each other for a long moment, and he finally nodded. "So it was the children who brought me, then?"

"Young, yes. Children, no. They care very deeply for you. I had to send them away."

He almost tried to sit up again, but thought first, and decided where he was would be fine. "Sent them away?"

"Yes. They were afraid for you. I could hardly hear. And they had…" she frowned slightly, looking off toward the windows. "Something to deliver. Something important."

He seemed to relax a bit. "Ah. I _must_ have given the compass over, then." He glanced up at her to see her still staring at him. "What?" She shook her head and stepped back to the fire, adding something to the pot before soaking a soft cloth in it.

"Your heart is strong, and well guarded. I was afraid I wouldn't find the way in time…" Taking up the cloth again, she let some of the liquid drain out of it before walking back to his side.

"But you did."

"And have you decided if that was a good thing or not yet?"

He tried to stare her down, unsuccessfully. "Listen, love, I think if I had some kind of death wish, I'd be dead fifty times over by now." She pulled back the bandage across his shoulder and chest and draped the sopping cloth over his wound. He gasped, gritted his teeth.

"Relax."

"Easier said than done." His hands clenched as he blinked and his eyes watered, but slowly the pain faded, until he felt a pleasant warmth.

Her voice seemed to smile. "You mend. Slowly." Turning back to him, she stood holding a sprig of some herb. "You're a stubborn man."

He frowned, decided that it was not an insult, and nodded. "Guilty as charged, milady."

A moment later his expression changed, and he looked up at the thatched roof, his glance darting to the shuttered windows of the hut. Looking back at her as the sound of wind grew outside, his concern grew. "There's a storm coming."

She nodded calmly, and the sound of trees around the hut creaking in the wind widened his eyes. "It has been here, on and off, for two days. We're safe." He frowned at the passage of time, but was distracted by the sounds of the forest. Being on land during this kind of weather always made him nervous. At least on his ship he knew what to expect. His eyes shot to the roof again as it sighed, shaking as the wind hit it. The woman stood up and moved to the door.

"Sleep. Don't be afraid."

She was gone before he could sufficiently express his astonishment at this comment. He proceeded to mutter quietly after she had gone. "Afraid? Jack Sparrow afraid of a little wind? _Captain_ Jack Sparrow? I don't think so, love." He jerked in surprise as the large palm leaves slapped against the hut with a wet, leathery sound. Perhaps it was his injury, or his weakened state, but the fear grew in his stomach until he felt as if he had swallowed a mouthful of hot rum. The pain grew as he tensed, and his breath came in short gasps through his teeth.

Suddenly he heard it. Over the wind, or through it, a voice singing. Sweet, soft notes that alternately chided and soothed. The trees stopped hitting the house, and the wind dropped, or at least seemed to move farther off. Jack lay in bed and frowned. He was so taken by the strange melody that he didn't notice when the pain had subsided. A few minutes later the woman walked back into the hut, adjusting the fabric hanging over the door behind her as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

"What was that?"

"The trees were worried." She smiled at him. "Much like you."

"But –" Abruptly he winced. She walked back to him and gave him a few more sips from the bowl, rested her hand on his forehead again.

"Sleep."

"Tell me something first." He blinked, feeling the strangeness and the exhaustion mounting in his body, and looked into her eyes. "Will you?"

"You need know nothing more to sleep."

"But…" He struggled against his closing eyes.

Placing her hand gently on top of his, the woman leaned closer to whisper softly. "Your ship is safe. One of the young ones who brought you carries your teaching like an honored gift."

His eyes fluttered as he tried to frown, his voice slurred. "Lizzie?"

"They are safe."

Jack's breathing became more regular as he drifted off to sleep, and the woman sighed quietly. "For now."

* * *

Ana sat on the edge of the bed in the first mate's cabin of the _Esperance_. Her hair was still dripping from the storm that was slowly passing, and her cheeks were wet for an entirely different reason. A knock at the door made her look up with a start, and she would have told whoever it was to go away – except she knew who it was. Time to take her medicine. The door opened slowly.

"Ana?"

She nodded, her eyes downcast. Captain Turner stepped quietly into the room, closing the door softly behind him. "Are you alright?"

Bolstering herself, Anamaria squared her shoulders and stood up. "So will you be throwing me over, or just letting me off at the next island?"

Bootstrap frowned, keeping himself from smiling at her dramatic tone. "That's a bit extreme, isn't it?"

"I nearly wrecked us! And the _Pearl_." Her anger kept her from crying, so she leaned into it. "I'd throw myself over, if I were you. I don't deserve to be part of the crew."

There was a long moment of quiet, until she finally looked up into her captain's face. There was no condemnation there; in fact, there was an almost amused affection, and she found it curiously disquieting. She frowned, trying to keep herself together. "What?"

The captain's voice was quiet. "I'm not sure what kind of captain you're accustomed to, Ana. I find it hard to believe that Jack would have thrown you overboard."

"I never lost my way in the _Pearl_. Never took her in harms way."

"And how many storms did you pilot her through?"

"I –" she stopped, thought. The only time she'd sailed the _Pearl_ in truly rough waters Jack was there – and he took the wheel almost automatically. There was never a sense that he felt she was doing anything _wrong_, but no one else was going to pilot his ship if there was a challenge involved. If something else needed his attention, he might give her up for a few minutes, but he was always back before long. "Not many, I suppose. Not with Jack around."

Bootstrap nodded, smiled at her gently. "But you still managed to find us a quiet place to wait it out."

"Aye… took me long enough."

"Then perhaps you understand why I'm not upset. We came through in one piece, Ana, and that's all that matters."

She sat quietly for a moment, then looked up at him. "Most times in my life I've been both captain and crew."

"Ah. Maybe you should be easier on them both, then." He stretched his back against the fatigue and shook his head. "Next time I expect you'll have a better feel for her."

"Next time?"

He exhaled heavily. "I'm getting used to you being the first mate. Take some time if you need to, but I'll want you back up on deck when we're looking for the _Pearl_."

She nodded, habit overcoming her. "Did we have a meeting spot?"

"Aye, the very point of coast we're on. We'll wait here until midmorning, and the clouds have cleared enough to see." Turning to leave her cabin, he said, "And help me keep an eye on Masterson."

"The gunner?" Her eyes narrowed. "D'ye think he's the rat?"

"Not sure yet." With a rueful grin, Bootstrap opened the door. "But at least I know who I can trust."

She sat down again after the door had closed, and considered a few things. After a long while she stood, wiped her face with a towel, and moved to follow the captain back on deck.


	10. Sun Bay

Thanks to the readers and reviewers… and thanks to Fiddler for finally opening so I can get some work done. (wait a minute…)

* * *

Wood and canvas creaked in the misty darkness that heralded the dawn, the illuminated fog even harder to penetrate than pure night. Several pairs of eyes strained to see over the port bow, where dim, vaguely human noises occasionally drifted over the sound of surf. Eventually, as the last misty remnants of the storm began to lift, one brave voice called out.

"Ship ahoy."

"Is it her?"

"Aye, Cap'n. Even in the dim I'd know the cut of those sails. Looks like she's puttin' a boat over." Ana tried not to sound too pathetic as she added, "After last night, they're probably afraid of gettin' too close."

Captain Turner gave her half a smile and nodded thoughtfully as he looked out across the broad bay toward the _Black Pearl_. "No use wasting time. Get my dinghy over and I'll meet them on the beach." He turned to Ana. "You have the ship."

"Aye." Her frown gave him pause.

"What?"

"Yer goin' alone?"

Turner nodded as he stepped closer, speaking quietly. "Truth be told, Ana, I'm still only sure of you and me. Keep an eye on things here, and I'll be back as soon as I know what's going on."

Anamaria shook her head. "I can't say I'm likin' the feel of this."

He grinned ruefully, blue-green eyes flashing. "Me either."

Half an hour later, Gibbs and Bootstrap stood on a stretch of sandy beach between tall spires of rock that had sheltered the _Pearl_ through the storm.

"We weren't that far off after all, Joshamee. Ana found a spot for the _Esperance_ just down the coast, not quite as roomy, but any port in a storm…"

"Aye."

Bootstrap sighed as he brushed some sand from his drying breeches. "But let's get down to it. I see another day and a half before we reach Sun Bay. We'll need to decide who's making the delivery."

"How far's the estate?"

Turner squinted thoughtfully as he pictured the maps that he and Jack had studied together. "I'm thinking a few hours ride, if we can get horses. We'll lose a lot of time if we have to walk."

Gibbs nodded emphatically. "Didn't the Governor arrange for any, then?"

"No. He left the actual delivery to our… expertise. That way no one knew where we'd be." The captain shook his head. "I'm hoping that's still true." There was a quiet pause filled with the gentle sounds of surf and seabirds. It was Gibbs that broke the peace, with a long, weary exhalation.

"So ye still think that Masterson is the one that tipped the ambush?"

Bootstrap nodded. "Says he slept through it."

Another shrug. "Might've."

"I don't know, Joshamee…" The captain of the _Esperance_ looked frustrated. "It just doesn't feel right. He doesn't feel right."

"So ye don't trust 'im."

"I don't."

Gibbs bent to absently pick up a shell that was poking through the sand, turned it over a few times in his hands. "Well, I'll tell you, Bootstrap. That's good enough for me."

Turner looked at the old pirate and laughed. "Really."

"Aye." Gibbs grinned at him. "Captain's privilege."

The _captain_, still unaccustomed as he was to the title, let alone any privilege that went with it, raised his eyebrows. "Ah."

"Will you be wanting to make the delivery, then?"

"I don't know…" He sighed. "I imagine we should stay with the ships."

"True…"

"But who goes inland, then?" The two stood and considered, although they both knew who they had in mind. Bootstrap shook his head. "It could be dangerous."

"He's a strong lad, Bill. And a good hand with a sword. Better'n Jack, although I'd never say it to his face."

Turner's concerned smile held no small pride in his son. "I'm more worried that he'll want to take her along."

"_He'll_ want to take _her_ along?"

"Alright, _she'll_ want to go…"

"Aye." They stared at the sea for a while, waiting for answers. "Yer in charge, Bill. If you give the orders, she'll listen."

"But - you're her captain."

"No. I'm just holding the ship." The abrupt innocence in the old pirate's expression made Bootstrap laugh in spite of himself.

"Fine. You'd throw me to her mercy."

"Better you than me."

Turner took a breath and blew it out. "Alright. It's Will, then. He'll need this." Reaching into his sash, he pulled out a folded map. "This is where he'll have to go." He stared thoughtfully at the paper for a long moment. Joshamee gave him a knowing look.

"He'll be fine, Bill. He's got a level head."

"Aye." Shaking his head, Bootstrap handed over the paper. "I can't help feeling like we're sailing into a trap."

"They took their chance."

"I don't know… I just can't lose the feeling that there's something else." He narrowed his eyes in concern, and for a moment looked just like his son. "I wish Jack were here."

"You 'n me both, friend." They stepped back toward the boats.

"You still have the gems?"

"Close to me heart, if you get my drift."

Bootstrap laughed as they waded out and climbed aboard their respective craft. "That I do, Joshamee. We'll take the lead out of the bay."

"Aye, Captain." Gibbs shook his head. "I'm still surprised that Ana brought ye that close."

"I should have warned her. She's a fast ship, but she's a greased pig on weather. It's the way that keel was set…" He shook his head with a carpenter's sigh. "It was the how she skated on the waves that took Ana by surprise."

The older pirate chuckled. "She must've been surprised, to lose track of her bearing."

"That she was." Bootstrap frowned. "I didn't expect her to take it so to heart."

Gibbs eyes widened in surprise. "Listen, Bill. If you're thinking of keepin' her on, even part of the time, you should know that Ana's got a temper - and she always aims at herself first."

Turner nodded, his frown softening. "I'll keep that in mind." He lifted the oars to the water, and stopped. "Josh?"

"Aye, Bill."

"Tell Will…" he shook his head, shrugged.

Gibbs smiled. "I'll tell 'im."

* * *

Elizabeth stood by, wide-eyed, as Mr. Gibbs relayed the orders to Will.

"Alone? He wants him to go _alone_?" The anger in her voice did nothing to hide her fears for his safety.

"One man can do things more stealthy. Yer father thinks you're the man for the job, and so do I."

Will nodded, a slight frown furrowing his brow as he studied the map of Sun Bay and the estate several miles off. "And I'm just to… ah… _borrow_ a horse?"

"Aye. Takin' all possible care, of course."

"Of course."

"Will -" He turned, distracted, and saw the torment in his wife's eyes.

"Darling. I'll be fine." He wrapped an arm around her and leaned his forehead against hers. "I'm just dropping off a package. Nothing more."

"But they tried to kill us."

"And failed."

"We don't know that yet." The air seemed to thicken as she voiced the concern they had all been pushing away, and her dark eyes shimmered with tears. "We don't even know if Jack's alive or not… and now you're going alone, and I won't know if…"

"Elizabeth." His voice was gentle. "I believe he's alive. And I've learned a thing or two from the man about staying alive myself." His smile reached her, finally, and she shook her head as she whispered.

"I wish I were going with you."

"I know. Just be here when I get back. Alright?" He leaned to kiss her after she nodded, and Gibbs watched with an approval. If the boy could handle Miss Elizabeth, he could handle anything. "And we've still got almost two days before I leave." She smiled, but a few tears broke free. Will held her tightly against his shoulder as he looked back to Gibbs. "Is there a name? Someone I should meet at the estate?"

Gibbs ran his hands back through silvered hair. "Sorry to say, no. Yer goin' to have to figure that out once you get there, on your lonesome."

The boy's eyebrows raised slightly over wide eyes as he looked at Gibbs, but he kept his tone light, mindful of the woman at his side. "Ah. Well." He shrugged manfully. "How hard can it be?"

* * *

Two days later they reached Sun Bay on the southern coast of Crab Island, a huge scoop taken out of the coast that had a relatively narrow opening into the sea. The late afternoon sun was abruptly shadowed as the _Esperance_ slipped into the bay, the _Pearl_ following a safe distance behind. The wind dropped as quickly as the light, and the ships found themselves crawling ever more slowly closer to the shore.

"Should we ship out oars, Cap'n, or stay where we are?"

Bootstrap stood at the helm, staring up at the sails that fluttered weakly, like sheets on a clothesline. "No, Ana. Drop anchor. I think we'll be fine harboring here for the night. Make fast the sails." He turned abruptly to look behind them, toward the opening of the bay. Ana turned to look with him.

"What're ye thinkin'?"

The captain frowned. "I'm not sure. Did Will leave yet?"

"Aye." She turned and pointed out over the bow. "There."

Bootstrap followed her gaze until he saw the far off dinghy, the strong rowing of the blacksmith's arms making good time toward shore. "Is he alone?"

Anamaria nodded. "Makes sense to keep the boat on his side, if he's got to get away in a hurry." She glanced at the captain's face, regretting her choice of words, but Bootstrap didn't seem to hear her. His intense expression relaxed for a moment when Will reached shore and dragged the dinghy into the shelter of some mangrove trees. After tying it off, he waved back at the ships before disappearing into the heavy growth and the quickly falling dusk.

"Well, that's well and done."

Bootstrap said nothing but frowned again, looking back toward the _Pearl_, which had moored farther from shore than the _Esperance_, and was currently blocking his view of the entrance to the bay. As their positions shifted a moment later, he saw another, smaller ship behind the _Pearl_. Followed by a second. _Bloody hell_. "Ana-"

Abruptly a booming noise echoed across the water. Yells from the _Pearl_ followed behind, and Turner swore again when he saw how close the splash was to their comrade ship.

"Cannons?"

"Aye."

"Those aren't her guns."

"I didn't think so. Man the oars. Get me within range." He was waiting for her to relay the order when the familiar guns of the _Black_ _Pearl_ began to return fire. Ana hadn't moved, her face a study in conflict.

"Listen, Bootstrap, Jack told me he was keepin' the _Pearl_ between you and trouble."

He spun on her, shocked anger on his face. "Are you disobeying an order?"

Ana stood firm, her eyes flashing. "I'm doin' what Jack Sparrow wanted. Seems that reason was good enough for some –"

"I don't give a damn what Jack-"

A loud crack made them both look back toward the fighting. The _Pearl_ was rocking slightly on the water. Slowly, like a tree in a crowded wood -and even in the falling darkness - they could see the top half of her foremast falling slowly toward them. Ropes snapped in twanging disharmony as the familiar silhouette was broken, and William released a sound of animal fury.

"We are _not_ going to let them-"

"Captain!" William turned to where one of his men stood pointing a sword toward the quarterdeck. "Masterson!"

"Where?"

"There, sir. And he's got a dark lantern."

William leapt toward the higher deck, his sword drawn. He was aware, now that he was watching, of a dim light that flashed out toward where the fighting was, and saw a far off light answering. With incredible economy of movement he was next to the man, grabbing an arm and pulling him to face him, sword at his throat.

"Having a chat with someone, Masterson?" The sailor looked with defiance at the captain, throwing down the lantern so oil and flame splashed across the deck. Several of the crew ran to contain it, and Masterson laughed as they struggled with the tongues of fire. Bootstrap grabbed him by the back of his collar and held the shorter man up on his toes.

"What did you tell them, traitor?"

"I don't have to tell you anything."

"No, you could simply die."

The man's eyes widened for a moment, as if he had underestimated the captain. "Nothing."

"Why don't I believe you." William's voice lowered dangerously. "What did you tell them about the Sun and Moon?" The point of his sword was resting on Masterson's throat, and the taut expression on his face made the gunner look frightened for the first time. "What did you tell them about _Will_?"

"…not enough."

Something in the man's eyes made William believe him. "You better pray that's the truth. Who's trying to steal them?"

The smaller man tried to struggle free, but succeeded only in pinking his throat with the point of William's sword. He could feel the slow, warm drip of blood mixing with sweat on his chest. "Why should I tell you. It makes no difference."

"Porque le mataré lentamente." The man's eyes widened. "Ah. So it _is_ Spain, then."

"We have bowed to the French dogs for too long. It's time we took our place."

"And is it the crown that thinks this, or just a scurvy band of rebels?"

"The rebellion will outlive the crown, believe me."

Bootstrap shook his head. "And so you sneak around like rats. Traitor."

"I'm not afraid of you."

William looked out at the wounded _Pearl_ and back to Masterson. "Pity." Without another word he threw the man overboard.

Across the bay the _Pearl__'s_ cannons sang out again and again, drowning out his cries, until one of the smaller ships jerked backwards, foundered, and slowly drifted down into the bay. William clenched a fist in victory.

"I knew Gibbs wouldn't stand for it."

More cannon fire was heard, and William saw the two remaining ships turn tail, leaving the bay under oars. A loud cracking and a sudden list to starboard showed where the _Pearl_ hit one of them, while the other slipped through the opening of the bay like a shadow in the night. He dropped back to the lower deck and called out orders. "Man the oars! Let's see that all hands are safe!" Ana stood staring at him, not knowing what to expect. He stepped close to her, looking down at her wide eyes. "If that's alright with you."

"Listen, Cap'n –"

"No, Ana. You were right. It was the plan all along, and I'm glad you kept me to it. Jack'd be proud." He dropped a hand on her shoulder as he looked toward the _Pearl__, _which was slowly getting closer. "Ready the boats. Let's see how bad it is over there."


	11. Captain Jack Sparrow

Sorry it's taken so long to post… Jack was determined, and I finally gave in. (He's still giving me trouble, actually. Sphinx may not like this…)

Many gracious thanks to the readers and reviewers, who make this so enjoyable.

* * *

Captain Jack Sparrow was on the _Pearl_, rolling in a storm that was getting steadily worse. He wanted to relieve Lizzie at the helm, but was stuck below decks, unable to move. Voices called, the crew, _his_ crew, yelling, and he thought he heard Ana and William as well. Looking down, he pulled against what bound him and saw an iron shackle around his left wrist connected to an enormous rock. Feeling the ship shudder violently as Gibbs called a warning to Elizabeth, all he could do was yell up to her as he struggled with the shackle, willing that she would hear him. _'C'mon, Lizzie.__ Keep her steady. I know you can do it, love.' _

The ship listed abruptly to port, and he felt himself falling sideways against the hull, smashing his shoulder with a wet crunching noise. The hull buckled, a hole opened and he was thrown out into the waves, sinking fast as the rock pulled him down. For an eternity he fought to pull away, up toward air and freedom, straining against the metal that held his useless left arm.

It jerked in the current, bit into him like the abrupt thrust of a sword. Unwittingly he opened his mouth to cry out and water rushed in, choking the last breath of air out of his lungs. _This is it, then_. There was a strange sense of relief as he stopped fighting. No decisions to make, no debts to repay…until he saw one of the _Pearl__'s_ masts falling slowly through the water near him. _But if she goes down… if we both_… bodies floated through the water by him. Will and his father; Lizzie; Anamaria so close he could see the pain on her face as she died, her eyes accusing…

_So you're just giving up. Abandoning us all._

Something in Jack Sparrow rebelled.

_No. Not like this._

He reached up in a last act of desperation.

Strong fingers brushed against his, running down his hand to grasp his wrist. As he clutched the arm in return, he felt himself shooting upwards, the weight that held him back snapping away. He broke through the surface with a gasp –

* * *

Jack's eyes opened as he gasped into the pure black of the island night. He lifted his head slowly, waiting for his heart to stop pounding so violently, for the throbbing in his chest to ease. _Bloody hell.__ What a nightmare_.

A quiet voice broke the silence.

"Good."

He turned his head quizzically, like a parrot hearing a strange noise in the jungle. "Beg pardon? Good?"

"You reached out this time. Good."

The soft voice in the night moved closer, opened the shutters near his bed. "What do you mean, I 'reached out'?" Jack frowned, looking sideways at her. "And perhaps, more to the point, what do you mean by 'this time'?" She chuckled quietly, shaking her head.

"Stubborn." Moving gracefully around the small hut she opened the shutters to the gentle tropical breeze, letting in the faint light that heralded the end of the night. When a palm frond pushed into the open window as if in greeting, she stroked it with a smile, eased it back outside carefully.

Jack exhaled loudly. "Stubborn, yes, love, I believe we've already established that. And may I return the compliment."

She turned to look at him, shrugged. "I suppose."

Jack stared at her benign expression, unsure what to do with it. "At least you're honest."

She walked like a shadow to the firepit and resurrected the embers of the small fire. Jack watched her carefully, felt himself admit with his usual speed that he enjoyed what he saw. _I must be on the mend._ When she came close to the bed and laid a strong hand on his forehead, he reached to take her wrist. She only looked slightly surprised. "Tell me your name, love."

Her lips turned slightly upwards. "And why would you need my name, Captain Jack Sparrow?"

The pirate stared into her dark eyes. She was quite unlike the women he usually kept time with… yet there was something familiar. He had a strong feeling that she wouldn't find the usual line of charm endearing. Indeed, her eyes still held his, as if she were waiting to see what he would do. He frowned, loosened his grip. "I'd like to know who to thank."

"Ah." She slipped her hand free, reached to the shallow bowl on the table. When she slipped her hand beneath his head and lifted, he sat upright, breathing a bit heavily. She looked impressed. "You seem more determined to heal now."

"Perhaps I am." He leaned slightly toward her. "Perhaps you've given me something to live for." The look in his eye would have melted the heart of any harlot in Tortuga. Especially if there was a gold coin to go with it.

The woman of the island got a very strange expression on her face, and suddenly laughed. "Indeed." She held the bowl to his lips and he drank, still looking into her eyes. "You are an interesting man."

"Not just stubborn, then?"

"Largely. But there is more." He managed to keep his right hand on her shoulder while her eyes, dark as midnight, searched his. Abruptly she stood. "Let's walk."

"Walk?"

"You're strong enough. Perhaps seeing the sun rise will ease your mind." The pirate shrugged, barely noticing that he was moving his injured shoulder. Carefully she helped him to stand by the bed. He draped his right arm over her for erstwhile support, and they walked slowly out into the retreating night.

"It'll be dawn soon." Jack looked around as a chirping noise began, almost like crickets but not quite. "What is that?"

"Save your breath for walking." She glanced at his hangdog expression and sighed, but her tone was respectful as she spoke. "They are coqui'. Tree spirits of the earth." He frowned, his eyes widening at the suggested mysticism, and she laughed quietly. Stopping next to a palm, she pointed at a tiny green blob on the bark, no more than an inch across. "Tree frogs." It chirped obligingly, echoing its name. _Ko-kee__, ko-kee_. Resting her palm against the tree for a moment, she smiled.

It took only a few minutes even at their slow pace for them to reach a small beach that looked east across the sea. The woman got him settled first, then sat next to him, their backs against a broad tree trunk. He managed to keep his arm around her where they sat, leaning against her with his best lecherous pirate smile. As the sun began to pour liquid gold across the ocean, she spoke gently. "You love your ship."

He blinked, his act broken by surprise, and tried to shrug. It made him wince only slightly. "She's my ship."

The woman nodded. She took his hand from her shoulder and held it between hers. "I see nothing above this ship in your life. I wonder at how alone you are."

Jack frowned at her, looked away. "Milady, I don't need pity."

"I'm sure you don't."

"I-" he paused, stared back at her. "The _Black Pearl_ is ..." he gave an expressive shrug.

She nodded, noticing that he didn't wince at all this time.

"Tell me about your family."

"Blood relations? Ah, yes. Once upon a time I had blood family." His glib tone didn't seem to reach his eyes. This time she frowned, thoughtfully, as if she were looking into his soul once more.

"You still do."

"Ah, but not if you ask them, love." Jack gave her a humorless smile before looking back out over the sea.

She turned back to the sunrise with closed eyes, her expression unreadable. After a few minutes, he heard her exhale. "I'm ready, Captain Jack Sparrow. Tell me who you are."

He was surprised when he heard himself begin.

* * *

*

* * *

Lord Harrington Warwick II stood on the new world soil, looked down on his grandson, in more ways than one. "A bit dark, Mary."

The Creek native regarded her husband's father carefully before looking back to her boy. He spoke as if she had chosen to give her child the sun-warmed skin of her people, even though it was clear he was the palest of his friends. She smiled quietly as the boy called to one of his cohorts perched on a fallen log out over the stream. His long dark hair streamed behind him; nearly black eyes flashing as he leapt into the water, laughing. Five years old, and already as fearless as a warrior.

"He is who he is."

Warwick shook his head sadly. "Indeed. And that's what I'm afraid of." He turned away from the boys to look at her. "I just hope I'm not too late."

"You still plan to take him from me?"

"Mary, I've explained it to you. I'm trying to save the boy's soul."

She felt the tears trying to escape, but would not let them. She would honor her husband's memory the only way she could. "My name," she breathed, "is not _Mary_."

"Yes, yes, I'm sure. But I'm certainly not calling you by that heathen name my son favored."

She took a deep breath. How could _Alghechew-ohegho_ be heathen? Her father, leader of the Creek, had named her honorably after the great heron that walked the waters near their home. Her husband, a trader, had loved her name… had loved her. But now he was gone. The sea had taken him, as surely as it would now take her son.

"My father and brothers would have stopped you."

"And I am grateful that God let me find you before they did. You must try to understand, Mary. I'm doing this for his own good." Turning, he looked down toward the playing children. "Boy. Come here." When nothing happened, he looked at the woman in exasperation. "Call him."

She called softly. "_Zulee_." He turned, dark eyes flashing with laughter, and was at her side in moments. As she spoke to him softly in her native tongue, his eyes darted to his grandfather. He shook his head. She knelt and held him, whispering in his ear.

"Surely the child can speak English."

"John always spoke in English to him."

"When he was here."

She stared at him for a long moment. "Did you stop loving your son when he married me, or was it before then?"

Warwick looked affronted, shook his head. "John was the youngest. I should have kept a closer watch on him." His gaze drifted uneasily toward the boy. "What is his name?"

She said something in her native Creek and the older man frowned.

"Doesn't he have a real name?"

"That is his real name. The name his people know him by."

He sighed heavily. "Does it mean anything?"

She felt her anger growing and paused, as she had learned to do when confronted with the stupidity of the colonists. Looking up, she said with quiet fondness, "Sparrow-hawk."

The shudder of dismay that ran through the man was obvious. "We'll call him Jonathan. After his father."

* * *

*

* * *

Jack stopped, took a deep breath. Slowly he turned his head to look at the woman sitting next to him, still holding his hand. "After that day, I never saw her again." His hand moved along his hair, and he held out a braided strand that ended with a few beads and a slate blue feather. "She tied this in my hair before I left. So I wouldn't forget her." He stood unsteadily and took a few steps toward the sea. "Of course my grandfather had my hair cut as soon as we were on the ship. I managed to save this by biting the barber." After a moment he gave her a genuine smile, golden in the dawn. "I've not cut my hair since I left his roof."

The woman watched him carefully. She stood and walked to him, took his hand once more. "What name did your mother give you?"

He looked away, shrugged, looked back to her. "_Zulee-ligwah_." Smiling a bit artificially, he added, "Jonathan Warwick, the sparrow-hawk, became Jack Sparrow. _Captain_ Jack Sparrow." His jaw grew tighter as his gaze hardened. "I made a name for myself." Eventually he turned to her once more. "And you, milady? What name were you given?"

A small grin softened the expression in her deep eyes. "What would you call me?"

Frowning, he stared at her with quiet intensity. Slowly he nodded, his smile flashing. "Coqui."

* * *

The three small boats from the _Esperance_ came up around the _Pearl_ like hummingbirds around a flower in the dark. William managed to be aboard first, and was greeted grimly by Gibbs.

"Everyone alright?"

"The bloody fools just opened fire on us. And us with the Pearl's cannons." The old pirate shook his head as Elizabeth walked over to join them.

"Mr. Gibbs – I finished the count."

William beat him to the question. "Any hands lost?"

"No, Captain."

"No, but Jack'll have my head over that foremast. Snapped the rigging as well."

William looked up at mast, hanging like a broken tree after a storm. "Lucky it didn't take the main out."

"Aye. I'll be thankin' God for small mercies when I have time. Meanwhile, we've got to get this cleaned up." He indicated the deck, littered with bits of rope, sail and wood. A shot had shattered the rail on the port side as well, crushing it for a few feet.

"You need more hands?"

"What I'm needin' is a good carpenter." The old pirate gave him half a grin. "Got one?"

William grinned. "Aye, Mr. Gibbs. I've got one." He looked up again. "Let's get things cleaned up here. In the morning we'll make her seaworthy until we can reach a proper yard." Gibbs nodded and called out orders.

Elizabeth looked at her father-in-law hesitantly before he stepped closer and hugged her. "You alright?"

"Yes, sir." She held on for a few moments before inhaling loudly and pulling herself upright. "I better get below and check for shifting."

"Good idea."

Captain Turner looked off toward the dark shore and thought of traitors, ambushes, shots in the night - and his son. With a weary sigh he turned to help organize the men.


	12. He's A Pirate

Sorry it's taken so long… busy here. And characters arguing… I find that even when it's not his chapter, Jack won't stop talking. Bloody pirates.

Many thanks for the readers and reviewers. Wishing you every good thingy.

* * *

_Boom._

Will was running downhill through the forest when he heard the sound, reached out instinctively and grabbed a tree to stop himself. If he didn't have a blacksmith's arms, he might have broken a wrist.

With grace worthy of Jack Sparrow he kept moving, spun around the tree so he was facing back in the direction he came.

_Boom._

He gulped a breath, fighting his body's first two impulses, which were to run back to the bay _and_ to run ahead toward the road so he wouldn't get caught by anyone attacking.

_BOOM._

"There. I know those guns." He shook his head and listened again. "But who was shooting on her?"

Frozen with indecision, Will pulled out the map and stared until his eyes adjusted to the dim light. According to the simple drawing, the road was quite near, and he should be able to find better transportation at one of the sprawling plantations for the miles inland.

_BOOM.__ BOOM._

He looked up toward the bay again as the sounds echoed over the water, then stared in agony into the dark forest. _What now?_ Cursing under his breath, he glanced up at the stars and turned back toward the road. His father trusted him to do what had to be done… at least he could return the favor. The nobility he wore so casually led him on. He had to do the right thing.

In two minutes he was on a well worn dirt road, heading northwest. For half a mile the wild forest crowded in on both sides, until it suddenly gave way to cultivation on the right. Will paused at the edge of the trees to look out across the moonlit field of sugar cane stretching off into the distance. He glanced back toward the bay once more and strained to hear. Nothing. Not even the muffled echoes of a fight. Whatever had been happening back at the ships was over. In frustration he almost cursed aloud when a much closer sound made the words catch in his throat. Ducking down next to the last of the trees, he waited.

Hollow thudding resolved into hoof beats, overlaid with the dim jingle of harness. Someone was riding up the road from behind him.

_Behind me?__ According to the map this road goes straight to the water…_his expression hardened as he glanced up and down the road. With a silent dash, he crossed over into the heavier forest on the other side._ Someone was expecting me._

The rhythmic walk of the horse was slowing as it grew closer, and Will managed to slip a bit farther back into the sheltering trees. He flattened his back against a trunk and waited as the sound of the walking got slower and slower, until it stopped near the beginning of the cane field. Frowning, Will peered cautiously around the tree.

The moonlight barely illuminated the man on horseback, but Will could almost sense his discomfort as he looked around furtively. Clearly he expected to find someone or something on this stretch of road. When the man quietly dismounted, Will's hand crept to the hilt of his sword, his palms almost tingling in anticipation of a fight – but after looking around briefly, the man simply dropped the reins in the road and began walking back toward the water. Will stood silently for several minutes, unbelieving, but finally curiosity got the best of him. Moving cautiously, the blacksmith worked his way back until the horse was within view. After waiting at least five minutes, he stepped out onto the road.

The horse lifted its head and looked at him, then dropped back down to munching the grass at the edge of the wood. It sniffed once toward the sugar cane, ambled in that direction. Will looked up and down the road again, listening with all his being, and walked across the road. It didn't take an expert to see it was a fine animal.

"Well, friend," Will said, patting the side of the horse's neck. "Looks like I'm supposed to take you, and this road." He looked back down toward the bay and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "I'm sure you'll understand if I decline." Moving quietly, he ran up the road alongside the sugar field and ducked into it, his legs complaining as he hunched over, speeding through the shoulder-high crop.

* * *

The lady of the island woke in the dark, sat up with a frown. Jack was gone. She glanced briefly around the small hut, even though she already knew he wasn't inside. She rose, dressed, and through her concern smiled at herself in mild amusement. '_Coqui_.' _He is different indeed, this pirate. Unexpected._ With a sigh she got up and walked out into the island night.

Placing her hand on the trunk of a large tree near the hut, she closed her eyes for a moment, then nodded and began walking toward the beach they had visited the morning before. As she slipped silently through the forest, tiny green frogs echoed the name as if the spirits of the trees were trying to get her attention… _co-kee, co-kee… _

* * *

At the end of the first cane field was a large outbuilding, including the stables. Slipping in quietly through the doors to the fields, Will took the first horse he found, a grey mare that was clearly more accustomed to pulling a plow than to being ridden. Fortunately, her bridle was still on, and he didn't have to deal with finding tack in the dark. Swinging up onto her bareback, he pulled her somewhat reluctantly out into the fields.

By the time he had convinced the good-natured beast that this was all perfectly normal, the moon was up and giving him good light, even at three-quarters full. Taking out the map again, he urged the mare across the fields, keeping off the road entirely. Once or twice he thought he saw a group of darkly dressed riders in the distance, making their way quietly down the road. Smiling to himself, he took the mare farther afield, and kept her at a brisk walk through the rough landscape. Four hours later he could see the lights of the estate, and the sky was dimming its way toward dawn.

* * *

It was the very model of a despondent pirate that sat on the beach, hugging his knees to his chest as he leaned back against the trunk of a large tree. He stared out at the sea, his eyebrows pinched in a concerned frown. Wincing slightly, he rubbed across his healing chest with his right hand. When the woman sat down beside him he didn't react, but quietly moved over for her to join him without changing his focus.

For a few minutes they sat silently, her hand over his.

"Your wound bothers you?"

"Dunno, love. Something's not right." He frowned again, his eyes never leaving the horizon.

The woman he called Coqui followed his gaze out across the slate blue sea. Purple-gray bars of cloud were lit from behind with metallic rose as the sun attempted to make its way into the reluctant morning. "Your _Pearl_?" Jack said nothing. "She calls you."

The pirate's lips drew into a tight line. "Can you hear her, then?"

She ran a hand lightly over his hair. "The sea is not mine." For the first time he turned, looked into her dark eyes. Compassion without pity looked back at him. "Do you know where she is?"

"How could I, love? You think I…" he frowned, then nearly smiled as he exhaled a laugh and looked down at the sand. "You probably think I can."

"There is no _thinking_ involved, Zulee."

Dark eyes lifted as a sparkle of a smile escaped. Jack shifted to put his arm around her shoulders and drew her closer. "Alright, m'lady. I shan't argue with you."

She continued to look at his profile as he stared back out to sea, his smile fading slowly. "Can you see what has happened to her?"

For a long moment he said nothing, his frown ticking across his face. He shook his head. "Nothing good, but…"

"Yes?"

He rubbed his free hand over his eyes, speaking reluctantly. "She's hurt. But she's still afloat."

"Ah." The woman smiled, seemed to relax somewhat. "Like her master."

* * *

"Thanks." Will slipped off the mare and slapped her side. "Go home. And be quiet about it." The horse turned to stare at him oddly for a moment, then ambled off the way they had come. Making sure that she was heading away from the road, he scrambled along the landscaped edges of the estate Esperanza, feeling it safer, for some reason, to stay hidden as long as he could.

Even though he was supposedly welcome and expected at the manor house by the Spanish and French ambassadors, Will still remembered overhearing his father and Jack talking about it that first night in the kitchen, after he had carried his sleeping wife upstairs and paused on the landing.

_"So.__ You think it's on the up and up?"_

_ "Something feels a bit strange about it, Jack."_

_ "Truer words were ne'er spoken, old friend." There was a pause broken only by the clink of glass and the sound of liquid pouring._

_ "You don't suspect Swann, do you?"_

_ "Nah, the guv's alright. But I don't trust 'Sir Robert' as far as I can throw him, and my arm's pretty good these days."_

_ His father had chuckled at that. "Aye. He seems an easy one to mislead, if you get my drift."_

_ "Aye." _

Elizabeth had stirred sleepily in his arms, then, and he carried her from the landing into their bedroom.

The conversation had stuck with him through two ambushes. Someone was out for something other than the peaceful resolution of the increasing navel hostilities between Spain and Britain. Technically a pirate, he couldn't complain about breaking the rules… but now it was personal. Whoever it was had attacked their ships and – he paused hopefully in his thought – _nearly_ killed Jack, certainly caused some damage if any of the shots he'd heard from the bay were true. Shaking his head, he brought his focus back to the estate.

As he crept closer to the servant's entrance, he could see that dawn was bringing much activity in the form of food being delivered, along with any number of serving people coming in. Will glanced around quickly. No one seemed to be looking in his direction. He shrugged, walked out of the bushes, took a barrel off of a wagon and walked with it into the manor house.

Once inside, Will followed the general flow of servants toward a large dining room, busied himself with moving a chair, and slipped out another door to find himself in a long hallway. Ducking into a side room as he heard a noise, he shook his head. _ Do you have a plan here, Turner, or are you just sightseeing? _ He was about move back into the hallway, try to find someone who might know where the ambassadors were when footsteps sounding down the hall forced him to move farther into the room. He looked around quickly.

It was a library, huge bookshelves lining three walls. Large windows with heavy velvet drapery were spaced among them. As the sound of the footsteps grew closer, Will looked in desperation, saw that there were seats in two of the windows. Leaping to the nearer one, he stood against the frame and pulled the green velvet far enough over to cover him.

Two men entered the room. They spoke English, one of them with a cultured French accent. "Yes, Milord Ambassador, we're quite sure now."

"Then the trap, it has worked?"

"We believe so, Milord." Will felt his hand move to his sword, unbidden. _ A trap. So they were after Jack-_

"These Spanish rebels, they have seen the last of our patience."

"Yes, well, Milord, the center of their operations was found on San Juan, and the force they sent here has been captured. I think you've broken their backs. Hopefully the sacrifices were not too great."

_What? _

"We must sometimes sacrifice precious things for more precious security."

"Indeed, Milord. I do hope the Spanish ambassador understands that as well."

"It matters little to me. Our days of cooperation are near an end."

"I understand. It is fortunate that we were able to orchestrate the delivery of the gems to draw them out –"

Will leapt out from behind the velvet, his sword drawn. The British envoy did not have time to call for the guards or draw his own weapon before the point of Will's blade was at his throat. "'Fortunate you could orchestrate the delivery'? You sick bastard-"

"Boy." The French ambassador stepped closer, and Will dropped back to cover them both. "Lower your weapon."

"A friend could be dead because of your little charade." His blade hovered closer. "Give me one good reason." It was difficult to tell if he meant a reason to spare him or kill him.

The ambassador sighed and walked a few steps away, seemingly unconcerned. "Since you are clearly not of Spain, I must assume you are one of the pirates that were contracted, no?"

Will frowned, unsettled by the man's cavalier attitude. "Perhaps."

The man laughed. "Yes, a pirate. Never admit, of course." His expression suddenly became serious. "The gems. You have them?"

The British officer was curious as well. "Our men were looking for you on the road… to escort you."

Glancing back and forth between the ambassador and the envoy, Will saw something in their expressions he wouldn't have expected. They didn't know everything that had happened. And _they_ were the ones who had placed the men on the road, probably to take the gems and then blame the rebels… His brain raced, and curiously, he found himself reluctant to tell them everything… at least all the truth. _ Perhaps I've more pirate blood than I thought. Or I've just been around Jack too long… _ "We were attacked. Twice."

"Yes, yes, we know. Unfortunate, but it did bring the scum to the surface."

Will held back his temper as his eyes narrowed. "We were boarded and robbed when we were above San Juan."

The ambassador frowned. "You did not save the gems?"

"We took all precautions. But there was a traitor onboard." The British envoy's expression wavered for a moment, but Will caught it anyway. His sword lifted. "You knew. _You_… planted the traitor on my father's ship!"

The envoy backed away. "It was necessary." His eyes darted toward the ambassador with rodent-like speed. "And you must admit, Ambassador, that the plan worked."

The ambassador dropped his cane absently across Will's sword to lower it, clearly accustomed to being obeyed. "Yes, yes, of course." His expression told another story. "It is unfortunate to have lost them… but perhaps, they can be recovered. It will give us good reason to pursue these rebels to the last…"

Will shook his head. _Jack may be dead, and they're playing at politics. We could all have been killed, and it would have been an unfortunate sacrifice…_ He sheathed his sword, although his hand remained pointedly on the hilt.

"Well, then, gentlemen. If all has gone as you planned, I'll return to my ship. My father wanted you to know what had happened."

"Wait, boy."

Will turned.

"You are sure the gems were taken by the rebels?"

His noble features were unmoved as he gave an idle shrug. "Who else, milord?" Leaning into a frown, he paused. "Although they didn't seem to be working as one, if you understand me. Perhaps even the rebels have rebels?" Tapping his fingers to his forehead in salute, Will swept from the room. He started running as soon as he was out of the manor, and didn't stop until he was safe in the depths of the forest.

Leaning against a tree, catching his breath, Will unsheathed his sword. It was one he had made himself, to Governor Swann's specifications. It was difficult to balance, but the Governor had been quite clear. Will wondered why he had insisted it went with them on this trip. Now he knew.

Holding the ornate hilt in his hand, he turned it carefully like _so_ and then like _so_; the pommel came off with a metallic _shnk_. Tipping the blade upwards, a small roll of silk slid out of the hollow space and into his palm.

Weighing the gems in his hand for a moment, Will shook his head and slipped them back into hiding, closed the compartment. He stared back the way he had come, and his eyes narrowed.

Perhaps it was the pirate blood, perhaps it was anger, or the need for some kind of vengeance on Jack's behalf. He was sure of only one thing.

He had done nothing wrong. Their kind didn't deserve the Sun and Moon.


	13. Reparation

Carrying on… many thanks for those still with me.

* * *

It was a dim and overcast noon when Will reached the shore and stood looking out across the bay. Sweat ran down his neck and soaked through his shirt from the hurried cross country hike, but it only gave him a cold chill when he scanned the water.

A few fishing boats were moving across the surface of the bay with unhurried purpose. At the dock halfway around the carved out shore, someone was unloading their haul and voices called commands that carried across the water, oddly clear in the sheltering bowl of rock. He blinked, shook his head, looked more carefully.

Nothing. No _Pearl_, no _Esperance_. The largest ship in the bay was a small schooner, and while there were several ships moored bobbing in the east, the undisturbed water of the western side leading to where he had hidden the dinghy was completely empty. For a brief, heart-wrenching moment he feared the worst.

_The _Pearl_ – no, _both_ ships went down. __Elizabeth__ is dead. My father is dead. There's no one here to help me. I'm alone and at sea again, just like…_

He took a deep breath. From some newer place in his soul he mined the confidence to think more clearly. An echo of a familiar voice seemed to say, '_you can panic when you find the opportune moment, lad. Right now, perhaps you'd like to try something more constructive, savvy?_'

In spite of his fears, Will smiled. The memories that merged with the voice were so strong that he half expected the pirate to magically appear as he looked across through the narrow opening of the bay to the sea; humming a tune and swaying gently to his own internal rhythm. "I hope you're still out there, Jack." The wistful sound of his own voice surprised him. "But then, I guess you always will be, no matter what…"

The sun had broken briefly through the bundled grey clouds and sparkled hopefully on the water. He shook his head, unsure of what that could portend. As he was about to turn back, intent on climbing up to the road, a flash on the water caught his eye. Squinting a frown, he stared so hard that his eyes watered. There it was again.

Will exhaled so suddenly he didn't realize he had been holding his breath. He quickly slipped the boat back into the water, and bent his back to the oars. It didn't take long before he was far out on the bay, and could clearly see the dinghy from the _Esperance_ bobbing on the half ocean, half bay waves. It wasn't the pulled together Captain Turner, but ship's carpenter and lookout Bootstrap Bill who sat in the bow, a disheveled and concerned looking pirate. He raised his hand and called when Will got close enough. Moments later the boats bumped companionably on the waves.

"Will. Are you alright?"

"Yes. What happened?" He looked at the clothes his father wore, which were smudged with pitch and sawdust. "Is everything alright?" His eyes widened in sudden horror. "Is –"

"Elizabeth is fine, Will. We were attacked again. They were no match for the _Pearl_, but they did chew her up a bit. No hands lost."

Will breathed a bit easier. "And the _Esperance_?"

"Untouched. Gibbs and I thought the _Pearl_ could use a carpenter, though…" He grinned down at himself, seeming to relax as well. "I wanted to make sure you… could find us. For a while there, I thought I'd have to raise the colors."

Will nodded with a quiet smile as he glanced down to where Jack's skull and swords banner was curled at the base of the dinghy's short mast. His father's warm concern made him feel better than he would ever have imagined.

"Wasn't even sure you'd see it if I did, in this overcast. We were lucky the sun came out and I could use the mirror."

The boy nodded thoughtfully, glanced back toward the shore. "Yes, it was lucky, wasn't it?"

His father unshipped his oars. "Come on, then. They'll be waiting for us. Can you row a bit farther?"

Will grinned. "Well, I am a little tired… but that just means you might have a chance to beat me." They looked at each other's arms, and for just a moment sized each other up – not just father against son, but blacksmith against carpenter. Bill laughed first.

"It may be a tie, boy. I'm a bit out of practice."

"Shall we see, then?"

Putting the worried energy that they had been expending into rowing out of the bay, the two small ships were asea in minutes. The going became more difficult as they hit the waves, but the _Esperance_ wasn't far. When they reached the side of the ship, Bill took the hanging lines and tied off their boats, and Will scrambled up the ladder behind his father, surprised at how glad he was to have a deck beneath his feet again. He was walking amidships to find Elizabeth when the _Pearl_ came into his view, and Will stopped abruptly, his jaw hanging.

The proud galleon stood stripped on the waves. No sails, her foremast ending in a jagged break. Men swarmed over the rigging, the sound of yelled commands and hammering carrying easily over the water.

Bill looked from her to his son's drawn face. "She'll be fine, son. She's wanting a new mast, there's no way I can repair the damage to that one."

"Jack'll be –" Will looked at his father, the words catching in his throat. "Jack'll be really upset, don't you think?" There was a sad determination in his voice. Bill reached across and put his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Aye, son. I hope so."

Will shook his head and tore his eyes away from the _Pearl_ once more to look at his father questioningly. "Elizabeth?"

Bill laughed, squinted toward the ship. "I think that's her on the mainmast. Some of the rigging was torn out, and she wanted to be on the repair crew." Will smiled, squinting in turn.

"It's her, alright. I'd know that… ah… hair anywhere."

"I'm sure." Slapping the younger man on the shoulder, Bill laughed again. "Let's get you food and sleep."

Will nodded. "Food, yes. I'd like to help over there, though."

"As soon as the captain clears you for duty… which will be after you take a couple hours rest." Will was about to protest, but his father suddenly looked very much the captain, grubby clothes or no. He nodded in surrender, feeling weariness suddenly overtake him.

"Aye, sir."

* * *

Jack stirred restlessly in the quiet of the hut. His shoulder twinged as he rolled over, his arm flopping across the empty bed. Dark eyes frowned as they opened behind a ragged veil of hair, and he sat up slowly to look around.

If his intuition hadn't failed him completely, the sun said it was sometime after noon. Coqui was no where to be seen. He shook his head, scratched his nails through his hair, and stood up with a bit more than his customary swagger. He blinked blearily when he pulled back the door cloth, looking out into the bright but overcast day. "Coqui?"

Nothing. _Shouldn't be surprised, mate. Not the first time she's vanished. You've just been sleeping so much you don't always notice._ Jack smiled to himself as he took a drink of water and picked up a piece of fruit that had been left on the small table. When he dressed he left his shirt loose and untied over his breeches, and ambled out into the forest.

As he walked he noticed the frogs were much quieter in the warmth of noon. _Smart little buggers.__ Sleeping instead of out looking for… for_ what? He grinned again, shook his head and kept walking. _For some woman who'll be out making conversation with the trees._ The island wasn't big enough to get properly lost on anyway. All he'd have to do is make a straight line to the shore, and then –

"Whoa." Jack stopped in his tracks. A grove had appeared as he rounded a turn. They didn't look like the more rambling tropical woods or even palms, but stretched tall and straight towards the sky. Walking into the grove was like walking into a greek temple, all pillars and quiet. He must have been distracted by it, as he didn't see her right away.

"Zulee."

Jack turned abruptly, wavering a few degrees past his target. "'Ello, love. I thought I'd find where you'd gone off to." Gold sparkled in his smile beneath the trees.

The woman smiled back at him, leaning on the tree trunk in the grove's center. "You're feeling better."

"Aye, that I am." He walked closer and looked into her eyes. "It's just a matter of my ship finding me now, milady." There was no register of sadness in her eyes, just a quiet acknowledgement. She stepped away from the tree and looked at the others as if she were completing a survey. He reached a hand toward her. "Coqui –"

She turned to look at him and he found himself unable to speak. She smiled. "What is it, Captain Jack Sparrow?"

He frowned slightly, rocking back on his heels. "Come with me."

"Where?"

"Away. Out there. You don't have to stay here alone, love."

Her laugh was deep and musical. "I'm not alone." She brushed a hand against another tree. "Never alone."

Exasperation frowned across his brow. "Yes, but-"

"Zulee." Stepping closer, she spoke in a near whisper. "Would you have me ask you to stay?"

Jack staggered back a step, their eyes locked with an intensity that surprised him. When he answered, it was so quiet that he wasn't positive he actually spoke aloud.

"You know I can't."

Her smile was incredibly peaceful. "I do." Turning away from him, she walked, humming softly, back towards the hut. He stood staring for a few moments, shook his head with a quiet jingle, and moved to follow her.

* * *

By nightfall the combined crews had made the _Pearl_ seaworthy again. Bootstrap, Will, Elizabeth and Ana had joined Joshamee to review the repairs over a cup of rum.

"The hull's reinforced below decks." Elizabeth wiped a sleeve over her sweaty brow and held out her cup to be filled. "The worse loss to stores was two kegs of rum."

"Oh, he'll be noticin' that one straight away, lass."

"He will with the way the hold smells."

"I'm sure the governor will replace it."

"I shouldn't be at all surprised. Father will be livid when he finds out." Elizabeth stopped, took a swig of rum forgetting that it was not water, and coughed, her eyes tearing up. Ana pounded her on the back without really paying attention.

"Aye. I'm just hopin' that Jack'll be livid."

There was a moment of silence as Elizabeth caught her breath, the rest of them staring into their cups. She sniffed and wiped her eyes, thankful for the excuse. Lifting her cup, she said, "To Captain Jack Sparrow. May he be mad as hell when he sees what's happened."

The assembled company raised their mugs. "Aye, lass. Mad as hell." Gibbs downed his rum all at once, while Elizabeth took a careful sip, her eyes on Will. Her husband gave her a tight smile after he drank, and looked toward his father.

"Can we sail back to Palomino this way? Or do we have to replace the mast somewhere first?"

Captain Turner finished his rum and looked thoughtfully out through the thick windows. "Hardly fair to make him wait. If he's waiting."

Elizabeth frowned. "He's waiting. You know he is."

Bootstrap looked past her to Will, who was watching thoughtfully. "Aye, Elizabeth," he said, touching her arm gently. "We'll go and get Jack first. Before Joshamee here gets too accustomed to holding her."

Will smiled thankfully at his father as he slipped an arm around Elizabeth. She leaned into his shoulder, dropping her head tiredly. "I think I'm heading back to the cabin." She yawned, stretching. "Can't imagine why I'm so tired. And the rum's not agreeing with me."

"Couldn't be the hours of climbing in the sun you've been doing, could it?" Will pointedly took a cup of water from the table and handed it to her.

She giggled and shook her head, but sipped anyway. "Nothing at all for a pirate maid. Aye, Ana?"

Ana rolled her eyes and stood up. "Captain. I'm thinkin' we should all turn in, get an early start in the light."

Bill nodded, but his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere as he replied. "Agreed, Ana. Have the crew get some shut-eye." They left as Elizabeth and Will bid him a fond goodnight, but he sat alone for a long while before finally following his own orders.


	14. Walking Wounded

Hey… I like this chapter! Hope you do too. And thanks for reading…

* * *

"I'm not likin' the look of 'er."

Captain Turner shook his head. "Give it time. A new mast and she'll be her old self again."

"Aye, and where are we going to have to go to find that? White pine it was, Jack'd have no less."

Bill sighed. "Short of sailing all the way up to Canada, we'll do our best, Anamaria. I promise."

She looked doubtful. "I don't suppose we could be, well… _borrowin__'_ one?"

He gave her a look. "No, Ana. This is an honest ship."

"But the _Pearl_ isn't, and since-"

"_No_, Ana." He couldn't keep the wry grin off his face. "But keep thinking."

The woman walked back toward the helm, grumbling, and the captain watched her with a fond smile. _You'd think it was her ship after all._ Looking across the water to where the infamous vessel sailed, still proud although not at her normal speed, he let a sigh escape. A figure at the _Pearl__'s_ rail waved, and he raised his arm in return before calling out. "Ana."

"Aye, Cap'n."

"Let her come ahead."

"Aye." The woman called for adjustments on the sails to let the damaged ship take the lead. By the time all was to her liking, Bootstrap was standing behind her at the helm. She turned slightly to glance at him. "Trouble?"

"Trying to avoid it. Gibbs wanted us to watch her back once we were well away." He stared ahead at the other ship. "I don't think she's quite settled yet."

Anamaria frowned into the distance. "Seems well enough."

Bill shook his head absently. "She's a tough ship to balance." A fleeting grin lit his face as he moved toward the bow to watch more closely. "At least to have her up to Jack's standard." His eyes narrowed as he stared ahead, and a short curse preceded his yell. "Bring down the main. Follow her in."

Ana repeated his call before asking. "Cap'n?"

"Line snapped on her mainsail. Took a second with it." He shook his head and watched as the _Pearl_ limped closer to shore, easing into the smaller bay that had sheltered the _Esperance_ through the storm. "Damn."

His pilot shook her head. "Ye can't replace everything, Bill."

"No. But it would have been nice to get _somewhere_ before –"

"Ship ahoy!"

The call from the lookout on the quarterdeck made Bill turn. "What's coming?"

"Better have a look, sir."

Something in the sound of the sailor's voice made Bill fly to the stern. Taking the telescope he sighted off toward Puerto Rico. Dropping the glass for a moment, he stared with his bare eyes, shook his head, and raised the glass again. "Bloody hell."

* * *

Onboard the _Pearl_, Gibbs was at the helm while Will yelled orders to get the mainsail down with a minimum of damage to the remaining lines. A sense of futility hampered their efficiency, but Cotton's parrot was the only one who said it aloud.

"Pieces of eight."

Several men nearby nodded. "Cotton's right. At this rate, she'll fall apart a bit at a time before we can get her set right."

"Maybe the curse is still on 'er."

"No grumblin', there, or I'll have your head." Gibbs sounded genuinely angry. "We'll bring 'er into the calm here, and set 'er up again."

"Aye… sir."

Will came closer to Gibbs as the work continued and shook his head. "I don't know what happened. I checked those lines, and I know I'm not the only one."

"Aye, lad, but you can't see the kind of stress that makes a rope snap out o' nowhere. Inside, it is. Like a man."

The boy's eyebrows lifted, but he said nothing. Glancing toward the _Esperance_, he nodded. "Father's coming."

"Aye." Joshamee brought the ship into the shallows of the bay, creeping on momentum as the wind died over the cliffs. "Get as shallow as we can. Drop anchor. Let's get this done." He turned to Will. "I'm thinking that –"

"Mr. Gibbs?" Will was frowning; his eyes narrow as he concentrated his attention out toward his father's ship.

Joshamee stopped. "What?"

"Are those –"

Three warships were bearing down on the bay, still distant but spread far enough to discourage any running off. Gibbs shook his head. "Don't know whose they are, though."

"Well if they're trying to trap us here, I can't imagine its any good."

"Aye. Ready the guns."

"Are you serious? One ship and a damaged _Pearl_ against three –" Abruptly colors were raised on the three approaching ships. Gibbs cursed loudly and colorfully, while Will's shoulders dropped. "Spain."

The stories of Spanish ships patrolling the Caribbean for smugglers and pirates, exacting what justice they felt was appropriate at the time, was one of the main reasons for the tension between Spain and the British Crown. Already the men onboard buzzed with apprehension. Being on the _Black_ _Pearl_ when she was fully functional was one thing; being on a lame ship with her back to the wall in a bay was another.

Will's gaze hardened as he watched them approach. "The _Esperance_ could still get away."

"Aye, lad. But she won't."

Elizabeth came up on deck, having heard the word from below. She stepped closer to Will, her fingers wrapping around his hand as she spoke quietly. "What's going to happen?"

The blacksmith was still watching the sea as he answered just as quietly. "That depends on what they want." His right hand rested on the hilt of his sword as he gripped her fingers with the other. When he turned to look at her it was abrupt. "I want you armed." Elizabeth looked at him and nodded. They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, kissed briefly, and she was gone. He watched after her until she'd reached the hatch.

"She's a fine lass, Will."

Will nodded, gave him half a smile, and looked back out toward the ships that were steadily increasing in size as they grew closer. "Maybe we should tell him to go. Get out of here while he can."

Joshamee laughed humorlessly. "That's Bootstrap Bill you're speakin' of, lad. He wouldn't leave us to 'em if Jack himself ordered it."

Standing solid with his hands on the rail, Will looked more like his father than ever. "Then I need to talk to him."

Turning from Will to yell orders to the gunners, Gibbs shook his head. "I tell you, lad, he's not going to –" by the time he looked back, the boy was gone, and the _Esperance_ was slowing as it eased nearer the _Pearl_, moving into a position where it could shield her somewhat without blocking the powerful guns.

* * *

Captain Jack Sparrow walked along the beach, breathing the soft, moist air and feeling oddly content. He'd finally healed enough to stay awake more than sleep, and was just beginning to feel the restlessness of inactivity. Or at least, inactivity without rum. He stopped, tilted his head and frowned. "Funny, that. I've not even thought about rum in…" shaking his head, he began walking again. "Bloody woman." The contented grin, however, did not leave his face.

It wasn't until now, when he was conscious most of the time that he realized how often she wasn't there. He didn't question her about what she was doing when she vanished, but assumed that being a healer she had various plants to keep track of. Besides… some part of him enjoyed the mystery.

The wind shifted in the trees, and he instinctively stopped to feel it, as if he might have to change the cut of his sails. He almost laughed at himself, but something in the breeze gave him pause. His dark eyes tried to bring the horizon closer, and after a moment, he gave a little shiver.

"Must be tired," he mumbled to himself, and turned to retrace his steps back toward the small hut. When he pulled back the door cloth he was startled to see Coqui standing near the small fire, her shirt off and her back towards him. She was carefully spreading some jellied green substance on the back side of her shoulder, which he could see had an ugly red mark nearly the size of his hand. "Here, let me do that, love." For the first time he saw surprise on her face when he appeared, and he blinked at her. "Weren't expecting company?"

"No, Zulee. I was distracted." She hesitated when he held out his hand for the jar of ointment, but gave in to his steady gaze. He spread it across her wound, watching her face to be sure he wasn't hurting her.

"Not pretty. What happened?"

She didn't speak for a moment, then looked into his eyes again. "You remember the lightning?"

Jack frowned. "That was two days ago, at least." His eyes widened. "You didn't get hit?"

Her quiet chuckle warmed him. "One of the trees. A branch fell."

He put down the jar and turned her by the shoulders to face him. "You should have told me. I've been asleep so much, I didn't know." There was something of the little boy in his expression. "I might have hurt you without knowing it."

"I didn't have time for it until today." The woman smiled up at him, her eyes amused by his confusion. "I heal quickly, Captain Jack Sparrow."

His hands slid to her waist as she looked up and pressed her lips to his, her arms twining around his neck. Afterwards, when he rested his chin on her shoulder, he noticed with surprise that the redness of her injury was already fading to pink. He pulled his head back to look at her. "You do heal quickly, milady."

"Why would I lie?"

They moved by degrees back toward the bed, and eventually, they slept. When Jack awoke with a shiver, she had vanished again.

* * *

Will climbed up over the rail of the _Esperance_, dripping water onto the deck. His father was waiting, since he had been spotted swimming a few lengths away. "What the– Will, what are you doing here?" The sea-blue eyes grew stormy. "Is something wrong?"

In other circumstances, the boy might have laughed. "Other than three Spanish warships coming after us?" Bootstrap frowned.

"I meant – "

"I know. You should take the ship and go."

The look of shock eased into something more paternal. "Oh, I should, should I?"

"Yes! I can get Elizabeth over here, and I'll stay with the _Pearl_ –" Bill's eyebrows raised a bit, and something of the incredulous expression reached his son. "It makes sense."

Bill shrugged. "It might. But it's not going to happen."

"I don't want to lose either of you." The pain on his son's face gave the captain pause.

"You won't. But we're not running."

"Alright, then let's make a deal with them."

"A deal?"

Will sighed, looked around quickly. The Spanish ships were still far off, and most of the crew was manning the guns or watching over the port rail. He drew his sword, shook his head as he emptied seawater from the scabbard, and opened the hilt. In testament to his workmanship, the silk was still dry. "I told you they didn't get the gems."

"Aye. And you should be keeping them safe."

"But we could use them now! Buy our way free."

Bootstrap opened his mouth, closed it again. He put a hand on his son's shoulder. "You're a good man, Will. But don't believe for a minute that giving them the gems would keep any of us alive."

Will's eyes darkened. "Then you think we're doomed?"

Bill glanced toward the shore, then off to the west. "Not doomed. Jack should have taught you more than that."

"But Jack's not here."

His father gave him a smile, put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "No. But let's not give up, alright?"

"Then what?"

The captain of the _Esperance_ exhaled heavily. "There's always shore."

"Not a huge island. And they seemed well armed, if the estate was any example."

"Aye. But that's the last resort." Bill looked at the ships, and gazed west again. "There are other possibilities."

Will frowned, glanced in the direction his father was looking. He knew that far off that way was home… and he'd never missed the quiet boredom of it so much. Still, there was something about his father's expression. "What do you know, father?"

The aquamarine eyes met the brown. "Elizabeth's father had us followed."

"What? Governor Swann?"

"Not because he didn't trust us. Because he was worried about her." Bill lifted his hands in the face of Will's questions. "About all of us, probably, but you know how he is. He had a couple of small, fast ships at the ready."

"You knew?"

"So did Jack. I assume they sent word back when we were attacked over San Juan. "

Will shook his head. "I don't understand. What does it mean?"

"It means," Bill said with a sigh, "That the Governor probably knows we were ambushed. That he probably has information beyond that. And if I know the man at all, he's not going to leave his daughter – or us – at anyone's mercy. It's just a matter of time..."

Will stared, still dripping on the deck, and looked toward the steadily advancing Spanish fleet. "That's a lot of probably to count on."

_BOOM_.

The sound echoed along the curve of the bay. Bootstrap looked his son in the eye. "I know."


	15. Dauntless

Thanks to the readers, the reviewers, and the people who keep writing.

* * *

The HMS _Dauntless_ cut through the waves with the proud stride of an English lord surveying his grounds. Every stitch of canvas pulled her forward as she pounded rhythmically across the swells, her commander apparently helping the effort with his hands gripping the rail in an unusual show of tension. After searching the coast for long minutes, his eyes strayed farther out to sea, and he shook his head. Three strange vessels were closing on the island. As the _Dauntless_ passed a rocky outcropping the two ships he had been seeking appeared, huddled together in a bay. He called for a change of course to bring them nearer shore, and knew they were spotted when the flagship of the three attackers changed course in turn toward them.

_BOOM_.

His lip curled slightly as his hands relaxed. For all their speed, they were still far out of range. At least he knew now what he was dealing with. The Spanish captain must be mad to -

"Commodore?"

"What is it, Lieutenant?"

"It appears that, well… we're being fired upon. Or perhaps _at_ would be the better word."

"Indeed. Curious, isn't it? Unless, of course, their guns have been highly improved." The two men looked at each other and shared the smug smile that only officers were allowed in the presence of sarcasm. Most of the Spanish enforcers were bullies, bigger on brawn than brains. Clearly the leader of this group was no different.

"Shall we show them _our_ range, sir?"

"No. We'll wait. They should soon be aware of our escort." He glanced behind him, at the tall ships that were coming fast around the eastern coast of Puerto Rico. Two British, two French. That should give them pause. He grinned again as the French ships drew closer and raised their colors.

* * *

Jack pulled back the door cloth and breathed deeply. _ I could almost get used to this -_ he stopped, shook his head as he chuckled at himself. _Sure you could, man. And a fish could get used to air. But not for bloody long._ With a sigh he stepped out onto the well trodden path that led to the east but stopped, decided on a change, and turned down a narrower way to the right. A few minutes walk and he reached the shore where a margin of beach on the south edge of the island sparkled in the sun. A wooden framework housed a ship's bell, and he stared at it curiously.

Some vague memory tickled at the back of his mind, and he unconsciously rubbed his shoulder. Stepping farther out on the sand he stared at the water, scanning the horizon with futile hope. His dark eyes narrowed as he looked down at the foaming waves creeping up the shore, and he thought about his _Pearl_; about the _Esperance_, about the people that manned them. He wondered, briefly, if he'd ever see them again. Abruptly his head jerked up, his eyes wide, as if he'd heard a noise far off.

* * *

Will took a last look toward the advancing Spanish ships. "I'm going back to the _Pearl_." He dashed across the deck, grabbed a rigging line and leapt gracefully onto the starboard rail. He was tightening his belt in preparation to dive when his father yelled.

"Will! Wait!"

The boy glanced back and followed his father's arm, pointing northwest along the coast. Another ship. "More? How many of them are th- ?" He cut off with a gasp, dropped back to the deck and ran towards his father. "Is that – the _Dauntless_?"

Bill was staring through a glass, a smile growing on his face. "Aye, lad." He sighted again, looked through the scope again. "They didn't come close."

Will laughed in spite of himself. "You mean they were firing on _her_? Are they mad, or just blind?"

"I'm sure the Commodore will set them straight." Bill squinted off in the distance. "Ah, and he's not alone."

Will, who was staring in amazement at the two sets of ships, shook his head. "I think they've noticed that. I'm not sure the Commodore will have a _chance_ to set them straight."

The captain looked toward the Spanish ships which were luffing wildly into the wind, trying to change course before the unexpected armada could reach them. Their paths began to curve, but momentum brought them closer to the bay first.

Captain William Turner looked solemnly at the scene. "Our turn, then. They think we're helpless." With a nod to Will, he spoke quietly. "Get back to the _Pearl_, son." Turning, he yelled to his men. "While they're on the run! Fire!"

The noise of cannons echoed in the bay. Joshamee Gibbs on board the _Black Pearl_ had taken up the call to fire as soon as the first guns fired from the _Esperance_. By the time Will reached the ladder, the Spanish ships had pulled out of their range and were heading back out into open waters. The sudden fight was over before it had a chance to really begin.

Gibbs gave him a hand up as he climbed back over the rail of the pirate ship. "Yeh all right, lad?"

"Fine. Did we do any damage?"

Joshamee shrugged. "Don't know if it were _us_, per say, but I'm thinkin' they'll be careful about goin' after _any_ ship for a while." The old pirate smiled. "That wife o' yours must be bloody important."

Will looked past Gibb's shoulder and his eyes lit up. "That she is, Mr. Gibbs. That she is." Walking past the older man, he folded Elizabeth in a rather soggy embrace. "You alright, darling?"

"I should be asking you that. We were never really in the line of fire." She kissed him tenderly before looking back out toward the sea. The _Dauntless_ was easing into the bay as the other four ships gave chase to the retreating Spanish. A frown creased her brow. "Do you think there'll be trouble?"

Will shrugged. "They did just save our necks."

"Yes, but why?"

He looked at her with bemused affection. "Probably because your father was worried about you, Elizabeth, and knows a Commodore who worries as well." She looked up at him in shock.

"No."

With a laugh he wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up. "You'd be amazed what you drive men to. He should have named you 'Helen'." She giggled as he kissed her, and he only noticed the expression on Gibb's face afterwards. "Mr. Gibbs? What's wrong?"

The older man grumbled, wagged his head for a moment before answering. "Well, now, the problem's Bootstrap, isn't it? I mean, we weren't able to make the delivery… so what's he going to be tellin' our old friend Norrington?"

"But we tried –"

"Aye. But tryin' may not be enough to win Jack's pardon now." He walked away, calling to the men to finish the repairs they had begun before the threat appeared. Will and Elizabeth looked at each other.

"What are _you_ going to tell him?"

Will shrugged. "Don't know, love. We'll have to see what happens at the time." Her eyes widened, and he frowned. "What?"

"Honestly, Will. For a moment you sounded just like Jack."

* * *

It was Will and Elizabeth that joined the Commodore at the _Esperance,_ since Gibbs was still a bit wary around the man. Turner and Norrington made oddly comfortable small talk as they waited in Captain Turner's quarters for the couple to complete the foursome. Ana was originally going to join them, but had begged her captain's leave when she discovered that one of the men who accompanied Norrington over was none other than Lieutenant Ellis Groves.

"He's a fine officer. Up for promotion."

Bill smiled. "Good for him. With her standards, I'd be surprised if she'd pick a less than fine officer."

"Indeed." They both stood as Elizabeth entered the room with Will behind her. "Mrs. Turner. Mr –"

"_Elizabeth_, Commodore. Please." She extended her hand with a reassuring smile and he nodded quietly.

"Elizabeth." Taking her hand gently, he bowed with practiced grace over it. "The Governor sends his concerned regards. I trust you are well?"

"Quite well, Commodore." She smiled at Will who was holding her chair and sat, freeing them to do likewise. "Thank you for coming to our rescue."

Will nodded, his brown eyes bright with sincerity. "Yes, Commodore. I really don't think we'd have been able to defend ourselves. Thank you."

Norrington stared into the youth's face, searching for some sign of sarcasm or bitterness, but saw none. _A good man._ "You're welcome. We'd have done as much for any of the Crown's citizens in need." A miniscule smile beneath his calm expression suggested that wasn't exactly the case. "But to business. Is Mister Sparrow joining us? Or is he hiding aboard the _Black Pearl_?"

"_Captain_ Sparrow." Will and Elizabeth had opened their mouths at the same time, but she beat him to it. "And no, he isn't. Captain Sparrow was wounded, and we had to leave him behind." Her eyes clouded beneath a frown.

"Frankly, Commodore..." Will stopped, unable to finish the thought.

Norrington glanced around the table, gauging their expressions. He took a deep breath before he spoke again. "I see. Well, then, I'm not sure how to carry on."

Will frowned as he watched Norrington come as close to squirming as he'd ever seen. "Is something wrong?"

With a pointed, abrupt movement the Commodore removed his hat, placed it on the table next to him, and went on. "The situation has become, shall we say, _political_. While the king gave the Governor to believe that he would extend a pardon, his advisors had assured him that there was no way the notorious Jack Sparrow would survive this mission." His eyes swept the group again. "Frankly, there was little hope that any of you would survive. Governor Swann was less than pleased when he heard –"

"You'd be pleased enough to be rid of him, wouldn't you."

"Will." Bill's hand rested easily on the younger man's arm until the flash of anger passed. "Let Mister Norrington finish."

Norrington stared at Will for a long moment. "Rest assured, Mr. Turner, that I take no pleasure in the dishonorable dispatch of any man. Not even an enemy." He broke the gaze and stared at the table. "Not even Jack Sparrow." After few seconds a small sigh escaped him, and he spoke quietly. "My orders were to kill Sparrow on sight. Unless he died in the execution of his mission, in which case I was to extend the pardon."

"What, posthumously?"

The disgust in the Commodore's eyes was evident, although he tried to hide it. "Indeed. That way the Crown would be free of him. And wouldn't have broken word with Governor Swann."

The quiet that drifted around the table was broken when Norrington cleared his throat in a businesslike way and put his hat back on, seeming to begin the conversation again.

"As you know, Captain Turner, the only reason we haven't charged the _Black Pearl_ with crimes against the crown immediately is because the Governor made a deal with Jack Sparrow."

Bill nodded, glanced toward Will and Elizabeth. "Aye, Commodore. Although I'm not sure where that deal stands now."

Norrington and Turner locked eyes. For a long moment neither spoke.

"Indeed. I understand that the jewels were stolen by Spanish rebels?"

Will's eyes darted toward his father questioningly, but the Captain didn't return his glance. Instead, he looked at the Commodore. "Your informants must have fast ships."

"Actually, they weren't our informants. The news has already spread across half the Caribbean. The tenuous alliance between France and Spain is crumbling."

Bootstrap didn't bother to keep the grin off his face. "A pity."

Norrington raised an eyebrow in return. "Indeed." He brushed a bit of dust off his sleeve and continued. "So. I need to know what's happened to the captain of the _Pearl_."

Will opened his mouth but Elizabeth grabbed his hand and shook her head. When Norrington shot her a look, she blinked solemnly. "The captain should tell it."

All eyes were on Bootstrap Bill as he stared at the table, then looked sadly at his son and daughter-in-law. Will tried not to change his expression as his father let out a sigh. "Well, you've heard right, Commodore. The Spanish attacked us over San Juan. Jack Sparrow was stabbed in the chest, and these two put him ashore…"

"And he's dead?"

Will's eyes widened as his father answered. "As far as we know, the man's dead. At the end he put his possessions in the hands of Joshamee Gibbs." By now Will and Elizabeth were clutching each other's hand tightly enough to cut off circulation.

Commodore Norrington stared at Captain Turner. "Then Captain Sparrow died in service to the crown."

Elizabeth and Will's eyes darted back and forth between the two men as they watched each other, sensing a second conversation going on somewhere beneath the obvious one. Bootstrap gave a resigned sigh.

"That would be the case. We may have failed in the mission, but we did our best."

Eventually, Norrington nodded. "Well, then. It is my duty to inform you, and Mr. Gibbs, that Jack Sparrow and any of his crew that survive him are hereby pardoned by authority of His Majesty, King George." He stood. "Captain Turner, the crown appreciates your efforts. As do I." He nodded to them all and turned to leave, stopping at the door to look back. "I trust Mr. Gibbs will lead the _Pearl_ in straighter paths?"

He directed the question at Will, who was startled out of his shock. "I – I don't know if she'll be led at all, Commodore. She's in need of a lot of repair, and we're far from home."

Norrington looked away with a thoughtful frown. "There's an island not far from here – the men said there was enough wood on it to build a fair-sized ship. Uninhabited and unclaimed, or so they say. Perhaps you could do repairs there?"

Will shrugged, somewhat lost. "An excellent idea, Commodore. Which island?"

Norrington's lips might have quirked in a grin for a split second as he opened the cabin door to leave. "I believe it's called Palomino."


	16. Jack's Return

.

.

Jack Sparrow was sitting on the tiny spit of beach, staring out into the east. With a sigh he stood, wandered rather aimlessly to the ship's bell hanging in a wooden framework. He studied it for a moment, but his eyes lost focus, almost as if he could see the rest of a ship surrounding it. Long, delicate fingers ran idly over the knotted rope, and after a moment wrapped tightly around it, the only outward sign of his tension.

Looking back out to sea, the bell clanged when he suddenly gave the rope an involuntary yank. The _Esperance_ was easing into view. He squinted his eyes shut, shook his head hard, and opened them again. She was still there, dropping anchor now, a small boat lowering from her side even as Jack ran out into the warm shallows to look for a ship following her, farther to the south.

Sparrow was still staring when the dinghy was only a few yards away and tied off, the man who brought it in walking toward him though the water. He stopped a few feet away and held up a bottle of rum, offering it along with a broad smile in greeting.

"Good to see you on your feet, Jack."

The pirate turned to stare wide-eyed at William Turner.

"Where's the _Pearl_ gone?"

"It looks like the other side of the island has some better wood –"

"The _Pearl_."

"- and I'm thinking that –"

"But where's the _Pearl_ gone?" Jack had splashed through the water to confront his old friend, grab the lapels of his shirt. William offered the bottle again, but Jack knocked it away. It splashed and sank gently to the sandy bottom. Bootstrap looked down at it for a moment with some surprise, then put his hand on Jack's shoulder.

"She's still afloat, Captain."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "But?"

"We ran into some trouble." Jack stood motionless, waiting. "Joshamee's taken her around the western side, where the trees look –"

Jack stopped hearing. He glanced quickly out to sea with futile hope and turned toward the shore. He had splashed a few steps when he stopped with a graceful spin, ran back and reached underwater to grab the sunken bottle of rum. Then he turned again and ran, slipping, until he reached the trees and the path that eventually led across the island.

.

* * *

.

"Bring her about, lad." Will nodded and called instructions to the crew. Gibbs was at the helm, and the blacksmith was backing him up as they nursed the Pearl carefully toward shore. While she was normally a dream to maneuver, the loss of her foremast had left her seriously unbalanced. "She's sluggish as 'ell." Gibbs shook his head sadly. "I hope yer father's right about there being wood here."

"Looks like plenty."

"Aye, but the _kind_ of wood is what we're wonderin' about. Can't have just anything for the _Black_ _Pearl_."

Will glanced away from his study of the shoreline and found himself smiling at the old pirate. This ship had a way of winning the hearts of men, and if Elizabeth was any indication, women as well. He must have looked toward their cabin.

"How's Miss Elizabeth?"

The younger man grinned, looking down at the deck. "She's still asleep. The woman has no concept of pacing herself."

"Aye, and I don't think a man of the crew was working harder than she yesterday. A good hand to have aboard." Joshamee watched as Will's eyes softened their expression, looking toward the cabins once more. "If ye want to be checkin' on her, lad-"

Will startled, blinked. "No, no. Better she get her rest undisturbed."

Gibbs nodded and pointed toward the beach. "Let's get a sounding. See how close we can bring her up."

"Aye." Will walked toward the bow to relay the instruction, not seeing the smile on Gibbs face as he shook his head. Cotton walked over to join him as he stared after the boy.

"Ah, young love. Now there's a time I remember."

Cotton gave him a blank stare, and Gibbs bristled.

"What, are ye thinkin' I've never –"

Cotton shrugged, and the parrot squawked. "Dead men tell no tales."

Gibbs eyes narrowed. "Get back to work, ye sorry excuse for a pirate." Cotton retreated quickly as Gibbs yelled out toward the bow. "Are we settled?"

"Aye, Mr. Gibbs. We're about as close as we're going to get."

"Drop anchor and put the boats over. We may be here awhile."

.

* * *

.

_Smoke drifted across the deck as __Elizabeth__ looked down at the young boy lying there. With a frown she leaned over to look at him more closely. He looked like Will, but not quite, something younger, something different… as she looked over the rail; she saw the _Black Pearl_ sailing off, proudly fitted and whole._

Elizabeth gasped as she woke from the dream; it was familiar but strangely different. Sitting up and clutching the covers to her, she looked over to Will's side of the bed. It was empty except for a small piece of drawing paper, torn from his notebook. Picking it up, she read the handwriting she knew as well as her own.

_'darling, you looked too beautiful to wake, so I took your shift. I'll be down for lunch or when we drop anchor, whichever comes first. –your Will'_

Elizabeth smiled then, and her shoulders dropped. Shaking her head, she got up to dress, still thinking about the dream that had wakened her so abruptly. She was just tying her hair when the cabin door opened and Will walked in.

"Ah, you're awake. Good morning, darling."

They kissed sweetly. "Good morning. You didn't have to let me sleep, I was fine."

"Of course you were. That's why you were essentially unconscious until now."

"Will…" She would have gone on but he kissed her again, and she had to wait until she was willing for him to stop. "Really. I'm fine."

He brushed back her hair and his expression grew more concerned. "I know you are now, but I don't remember a night when you slept so badly." He tried to smile. "Is anything bothering you?"

Elizabeth took his hand from her hair and kissed it, staring into those gentle eyes. "Only worrying, I guess." She looked almost embarrassed. "I worry if he's alright, and then I worry that if he is, seeing the _Pearl_ like this will kill him. The closer we get to Palomino Island, the more worried I am." Her husband laughed quietly.

"Sounds like you've been spending too much time with Mr. Gibbs."

"I know." Her eyes darkened. "Do you think he's alright? Really?"

Kissing her forehead, Will wrapped her in a hug. "We'll find out soon enough. That's what I'm here to ask you. Do you want to be in the shore party?"

"We're here?" She hurriedly snatched up her sash, and on second thought grabbed her sword as well before running through the hatch toward the gangway, leaving Will to trail after her, shaking his head.

.

* * *

.

Jack skidded to a less than elegant stop at the turning toward the hut. He looked toward the western side of the island, shook his head, and ducked down the path at a run.

"Coqui?" Pushing aside the doorcloth he rushed in, panting. As he scanned the small room something seemed different, but he couldn't tell what it was. "Not here." He looked toward the door, frowned, and headed out to the grove of trees she'd been frequenting lately.

When he trotted into the clearing, she was standing among the tall trees with a calm smile on her face, her eyes closed as the breeze played with her hair. He stopped, watched her for a moment.

"They've come."

"Aye, love. But evidently there's something wrong with the Pearl." She opened her eyes and looked at him, his expression like a small boy that had lost his favorite toy. "Will you come?"

"I can't heal a ship, Zulee."

Jack's smile broke into gold. "I'm not sure about that. But come?" The woman looked at him for a long moment, and he gave her a worried frown. "Please?"

He grabbed her hand when she held it out, and started off again at a run, pulling her laughing along beside him.

.

* * *

.

Will and Elizabeth reached the beach first, tying up their dinghy to one of the sprawling mangroves that edged the shore on the western coast. There was a long beach, but it was punctuated by stands of the wild-looking trees. Bootstrap had managed to pass Jack when he detoured to find Coqui, and was there next.

"Where's Jack?"

"He was ahead of me. I can't imagine that-"

Laughter followed a bellow from the wood behind him. Jack and Coqui burst out onto the sand, the pirate releasing her hand as he ran to the water's edge.

"He's alright!"

"Of course he is, darling. He's Captain Jack Sparrow."

Elizabeth looked at the woman of the island, and her expression became serious. She walked over to where Coqui stood, watching Jack splash out into the water to look at his ship.

"Madam?"

Coqui blinked and looked at the younger woman. "Yes, child."

"Is he really alright now?"

The woman looked over at Jack, who had stepped back to frown from shore.

"He's strong. But you know that."

"Thank you."

She nodded and gave Elizabeth a professional look, glanced at Will and back. "You and the boy are healthy." The woman's hand brushed gently over Elizabeth's forehead. "But respect your body with rest." Elizabeth's eyes widened for a moment but Jack yelled before she could frame a response. She turned to see him face to face with Captain Turner.

"What did you do to her?"

"Nothing we weren't expecting, Jack."

"But that mast! Where in bloody hell am I going to find white pine –" His eyes narrowed, and Bill shook his head.

"We're not stealing a mast, Jack."

"I didn't suggest any such thing."

"Your eyes did."

Jack waved his hands expressively. "Fine. Then what the hell –"

"Zulee." The pirate stopped abruptly, turned to look at her. With a cross between splash and stealth, he was at her side.

"Can you heal her?"

The woman laughed. "No, Zulee. I told you that." She looked over Jack's shoulder to Bill. "But I believe he can." Jack noticed with a surprised frown that she was carrying a piece of branch, and she held it out to Captain Turner. "Perhaps this will do?"

Bill took the stick with a polite nod, sniffed it, frowned, and broke it across the grain. He blinked at it a few times and then looked at the woman, who stood calmly. "Where did you get this?"

She smiled and pointed back the way they had come.

"That's right, there are some tall trees in the grove…" Jack hesitated as he looked at Coqui. "But they don't look exactly like white pine. Not that I'm an expert."

"This isn't white pine, Jack." Bill shook his head. "I think it's Douglas Fir."

"Never heard of it."

"No, you wouldn't. But you will." Bill motioned for her to lead the way and kept talking as they walked the path back toward the grove of trees. "I understand they grow on the other side of the continent, and down into Mexico." They walked for a while in silence, until the wood cleared abruptly into the grove of tall trees. Bill walked into the center of them and turned slowly, staring up at them.

"Will one of them do?"

Bill laughed. "I believe so, milady." He turned to Jack. "I've only seen pieces of this wood. It's perfect. Not too heavy, doesn't warp, hardly shrinks at all…" The carpenter walked around to examine the trees more closely as Jack moved closer to Coqui.

"Are you sure, love?"

She looked at him peacefully. "One of them will come down tonight." Stroking his cheek gently, she added, "I may be gone for a while."

He took her hand and kissed it, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I know."


	17. Revelations

The _Black Pearl_ rocked gently as the tide pulled her toward the sea, not so roughly as to disturb her anchorage, but enough to have her calmly nodding agreement as her captain spoke quietly at her bow.

"'m sorry, love. Didn't mean for you to get hurt." The ship rose and fell once more on the swell. "William'll do right by you. I know that."

The captain took a swig from the bottle he held, swallowed hard, and looked out toward the island. "Hell of an adventure, though."

A noise behind him made him spin, overshooting his mark by some degrees. Frowning, he compensated back to see Will standing in the moonlight. "Well, you're off the beaten path for this hour, aren't you, lad?" He grinned suggestively but grew more serious as he saw the boy's face. "Something wrong?"

Will turned to face the open sea, but his eyes were still downcast. "I've made a decision, Jack."

The pirate peaked an eyebrow. He opened his mouth to make a flippant remark but stopped, wavering slightly as he lifted a hand to point at the younger man. For a moment he frowned, pointing, then dropped his hand smoothly. "Well, I'm going to assume it's not to turn me in for the reward money."

Will glanced up quickly, his expression seeming to question Jack's sanity. It was purely an automatic response when his hand moved to the hilt of his sword. "Have I ever given you reason to think I would?"

The pirate held up his hands in front of him, shielding himself from the younger man's reaction. "No." He swayed backwards, then put a thoughtful finger to his lips. "Although there was that time –"

"Jack."

The pirate stopped, grinned. "What is it, lad?" His eyes widened as Will drew his sword.

"I've talked to father about this. He agreed with me." Will glanced back amidships and nodded.

Bill stepped across the deck to stand next to his son, a quiet smile on his face. "That I did. Although I believe he's learned a bit about negotiating from you." He leaned easily against the rail and waited. "I guess some things don't change, Jack."

With a quick movement Will twisted the hilt on the sword, letting a small silk roll slide out before he replaced it just as deftly. He unrolled the fabric that shimmered softly in the night. "I think you should have this."

The sphere of the black pearl glimmered with dark iridescence. Captain Jack Sparrow blinked at it, then up at the boy's eyes.

"Are you sure it's yours to give, Will?"

"They would have killed you. They would have killed us all, if it was convenient to their plan." He shook his head with some anger. "Yes, I'm sure." He grinned, finally. "The black pearl is yours, Captain."

Jack stared at it until Bill finally picked it up off his son's hand and held it out. "Take it, Jack. You've earned it. The _Pearl_ has earned it." The pirate held out his hand and Bill placed it carefully in his palm.

Sparrow blinked several times in disbelief before smoothly pocketing the pearl. He brought his palms together and nodded over them. "Gentlemen. I thank you." He turned to walk away but spun back toward them. "You know, I can't help wondering -"

Bill laughed. "He wanted me to keep the sun, Jack. But I told him to hang on to it."

Jack glanced over at Will, who met his eyes with a completely innocent, conspiratorial expression. "I see."

"Well, Elizabeth will be wondering where I've gone. Goodnight, Jack. Goodnight, father." Will nodded to them as he turned smartly and walked back to his cabin, the two captains watching after him.

"He's a good man, William."

"Aye." Captain Turner watched his son fondly before he chuckled a yawn. "I'm off to bed, Jack. Work to do in the morning." Tipping his fingers from his forehead in salute, Bill headed back to the crew quarters where he slept while aboard Jack's ship.

The _Pearl_ bobbed more lightly as the tide leveled off, and her captain stood for a long while watching the island in the night breeze. After a time he turned with a sigh and walked with a familiar, loose gait back to his cabin.

* * *

During the night the wind picked up, dark clouds gathered and scattered once more. By morning, one of the firs had fallen.

"I don't understand it, Jack." Bill stood next to the huge bulk of the fallen tree and shook his head. "It's the one I would have picked. The wood's sound. There's no reason it should have -" he glanced over to his friend, and saw a fond, sad cast in the dark eyes. He stepped closer; speaking so only the pirate could hear. "This have to do with the lady?"

Jack lifted his head as if coming out of a dream. "I expect it does, mate." He looked William in the eye and his gaze hardened. "Don't waste anything. And make sure they don't hurt any other trees while they're working."

Bill returned his intense gaze easily. "We'll do our best, Jack."

Repairs were under way in hours. Cutting a tree down to a mast was still a huge job, even with two crews working in shifts. Jack walked over to where Bill was stripping bark and waited until he paused in his work.

"How long, William?"

Bootstrap sighed and stretched his broad shoulders in the sun. "The men are doing all they can, Jack. Neither of us has extra crew."

Jack looked down at the tree, but grinned lightly when he lifted his head again. "I know you're doing all you can. I don't want you to think me ungrateful." Bill looked at him and laughed.

"We all want her whole again. I'm trying to keep the men paced, so they don't wear out before we're done, and that's not easy when they're trying to impress Captain Jack Sparrow."

As if in response, a lithe figure pushed through the branches from where the top of the tree rested, pointing toward the beach. "Captain Turner? Is it alright if we – oh, hello, Jack. How are you feeling?"

"Better when the _Pearl_ is whole, Lizzie." He could see Will striding purposefully toward where she stood, and frowned in curiosity. "Trouble, love?"

She glanced around and both captains were surprised to see her expression tighten. "I'm fine, Will. Just –"

"No, Elizabeth. I've got nothing against you doing your share, but this is ridiculous. I don't want –"

"Will Turner, if you think that I'm going to stop working on the _Pearl_ after all this just because -"

Sparks flew between the chestnut and chocolate brown eyes, until Bootstrap cleared his throat. The couple turned abruptly to see Jack's smile flashing gold in the sun.

"A bit of marital disharmony?"

"It's not that at all, Jack. It's just that she's –"

"Will!"

Captain Sparrow looked at Captain Turner. The smirk they shared was undeniable. Jack shook his head and put a hand on Will's shoulder. "Listen, mate. You're not going to get your way."

"But she's-"

"I know."

"What?" Elizabeth's mouth dropped open as she stared at Jack, flushing slightly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, love, that you have a glow about you. Clearly you're working on a nephew for me."

"And here I thought it was a grandchild for me."

"Aye, but since I'm the one they'll want to name it after –"

"Jack!"

"Exactly."

"Now wait." Elizabeth took a deep breath and tried to look unfazed by this casual conversation of her condition. "You said I have a glow about me. That's a load of rubbish. I have a bit of sun, that's all."

Jack flashed a smile again. "Say what you like, but clearly the whelp is worrying for two now." Without missing a beat he turned and spoke quietly to the younger man. "By the way, lad, you should know by now that women aren't half as fragile as they'd sometime like us to believe. Don't insult her, and she won't have to prove she's stronger than you think."

Will's eyebrows raised, and he glanced at Elizabeth. "Good point," he murmured.

"Now, of course, if it's a girl –"

Elizabeth interrupted. "No." They looked at her curiously. "It's a boy."

Gold flashed again. "And you just know, do you, Lizzie?"

She smiled fondly into the trees, and they all saw her brush her abdomen gently for the first time, although certainly not the last. "The lady told me."

This time Jack looked surprised, but only for a moment. "Well, lass, she would know." For a few minutes they were lost in congratulating each other, with promises of a real celebration when they had time. Then Elizabeth seemed to remember what brought her down to her father in law.

"Captain Turner." Bootstrap smiled at her formality and bowed his head.

"What can I do for you, Miss Elizabeth?"

"The men are wondering if we can burn the branches that we cut, or if we should do something else…" She trailed off, looking between Jack and Bill. Bootstrap looked at Jack and shrugged.

"What do you think?"

Jack stared into the trees for a few seconds before answering. "Set them out to sea. I don't want a fire on her land, and I don't want to leave her a mess." A thought seemed to occur to him. "Lizzie. I'll be wanting you to organize the men for it. See that this is done with some efficiency, yes?"

She grinned, knowing he was giving her a physically less demanding job, but one that she could do better than most. "Aye, Captain." She turned to walk away, then turned back to Will. "Sorry, Will. I didn't mean to sound so angry –"

"I didn't either." They looked at each other for a moment before she smiled broadly and pulled him into a passionate kiss. When they parted, she flashed another smile at the captains and strode off to where she would organize the men, leaving Will looking somewhat stunned.

His father chuckled. "Ah, that'll happen sometimes."

"Oh?" Will glanced after her with an expression of fearful yearning.

"Aye. When they're not crying or throwing things." He laughed as Will looked to see if he was serious. "Making a baby isn't exactly an easy thing, son. Well… not entirely easy."


	18. Changes

You know, I really thought I was done this time, but that's the danger with letting Jack start directing things… once more with feeling. And thank you, so much, for those who let me know what they think! Muchos smooches to you.

o-o-o

* * *

o-o-o

Captain Jack Sparrow stepped to the port rail where William Turner - currently taking a theoretical cut in status if not in pay to act as his head carpenter – leaned wearily as he looked out across the water. He spoke quietly, without acknowledging his friend's arrival.

"They're pushing too hard, Captain."

Jack looked almost pathetically hopeful. "And that's a good thing, eh?"

Bill rolled his eyes at the pleading expression. "It'd be just fine if we were closer to done, Jack, but frankly…"

Ten days of work had passed. While the deck jobs were done, the mast wasn't yet finished and the men were already exhausted; still, it didn't stop them from pushing as hard as the day they started.

Bill glanced around and spoke more quietly. "At this rate someone's going to get hurt. You saw how Joshamee looked. I practically had to order him off duty."

The pirate sighed, his dark eyes searching the sea. "What can I do?"

Bill shrugged expressively. "I don't know. We've got at least another week's work." Jack winced. "I need more time or more men, Jack."

The captain ran his hand distractedly over the new rail in an elegant gesture and smiled. He couldn't feel a join between the repair and the original wood. "Beautiful work, William."

The carpenter shrugged. "It's the wood."

Jack tipped his head back as he squinted. "Even I know it's the carpenter, old friend." He extended his hand formally. "Thank you. There's no one I'd rather have take care of her."

Bill chuckled as he shook the hand. Clapping the other man's shoulder, they turned back to look out over the sun kissed blue water. Abruptly they leaned farther over the rail in unison, staring with sudden intensity.

"Jack."

"I see 'er."

"I must be workin' 'em too hard if no one's on lookout."

A voice called out from amidships. "Ship ahoy!"

Jack grinned and glanced over at Bill. "That would be your son."

Bill frowned. "I'd have caught it sooner."

"Aye, but so would he if he wasn't supposed to be sleeping right now. He's not on duty for another two glasses."

The younger Turner trotted to the rail and Jack spoke without looking away from the fast approaching ship. "Shouldn't you be in bed, boy?"

"Couldn't sleep. Something felt… strange." Bill and Jack shared a quick nod as Will stared out over the sea. "Good God. Is that – the _Dauntless_?"

"Looks like, son." Bill shook his head with a sigh. "Don't suppose they've come for tea."

Will's eyes widened. "We've got to get Jack out of here." The urgency in his voice made the pirate grin.

" We'll see what they want, first."

"But – if Norrington sees you –"

"Norrington saw me as soon as they rounded that coast. We're in plain view."

"Then get to the island. Maybe the lady –"

"No." Jack's voice purred quietly. "I'm not bringing the British navy down on her. She's done quite enough."

Will opened his mouth, saw the look in his father's eyes, and closed it again. Frowning, he stared down at the deck and then back out towards the _Dauntless_, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "Shall I call the men?"

Bill put a gentle hand on his son's shoulder. "Let's not borrow trouble. But perhaps Mr. Gibbs should be here?" Jack nodded. "And maybe you should be below decks when they arrive, Jack?"

"I'm fine where I stand, William."

Within half an hour a dinghy was bumping up against the _Pearl_, and a rope was tossed down. Commodore James Norrington swarmed up the side and swung a leg over the rail with an ease that made it clear that he was still a sailor at heart. He glanced around with an expression that bordered on approval at the well-kept ship.

"Good afternoon, Captain Turner."

William nodded as Norrington extended his hand, shook it firmly. "What can we do for you, Commodore?"

The commodore seemed to ignore the comment, looking toward Jack with what appeared to be a quick evaluation, then on to where Joshamee was standing. "Mr. Gibbs. I see repairs are proceeding?"

Gibbs frowned, his eyes bright in the sun. "Aye…"

"We were concerned when we saw the _Esperance_ on the other shore with a – pardon the expression - skeleton crew. I wanted to make sure all was well." His eyes shot to Jack once more before moving to Will. He nodded politely, noticing the young swordsmith's knuckles were white over the hilt of his weapon. "Mr. Turner, I trust your wife is in good health." Will blinked, confused by the polite offensive.

"She's fine."

Finally Norrington's glance dropped to Jack. The barest smirk flashed over his face before he extended his hand. "Allow me to introduce myself. Commodore James Norrington."

Sparrow's eyebrow quirked upwards as he looked from the man's face to his hand. Norrington continued with exaggerated calm.

"And you would be?"

Jack swayed slightly backward, then extended his hand carefully, as if he were reaching into a wolverine's cage. "Captain Jack Sparrow."

The commodore chuckled. "Ah, one of those pirate conceits. The _Black Pearl_ will always have a 'Sparrow' at her helm, eh?" He frowned theatrically. "Didn't the Dread Pirate Roberts do the same?"

Will was shaking his head in confusion. "Are you suggesting you don't know –" He stopped as his father's hand touched his arm. Norrington looked at the younger man and smiled thinly.

"I _know_ I haven't met this man. 'Captain Jack Sparrow', the pirate, is dead. I certainly wouldn't have reported that to the king if it wasn't true. And his Majesty certainly wouldn't have pardoned him and his crew if he wasn't dead." The men standing around him let this settle, and Jack's smile glinted briefly in the sunlight.

"Well, then, Commodore. It's a pleasure to meet you." Jack oozed closer and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "Would you care for some rum?"

Norrington bristled a bit at the familiarity, stepping away. The look in his eye made it clear he'd gone as far as he was going to go. "No. Thank you. I assume you're now captain of this ship?"

"Aye, Commodore. You're a perceptive man." Jack was having a difficult time keeping a straight face.

"And I also assume it will no longer be used as a pirate vessel?"

Jack opened his mouth, closed it, and looked at Norrington from the corner of his eye. "As I said," he finally replied, "you're a perceptive man. My first sail will be to take this youngster and his bonnie wife home again." He leaned in conspiratorially, making the officer draw back slightly as he whispered. "She's in a family way, y'know."

"Jack –"

Norrington's surprised expression slowly faded to one of genuine pleasure. He looked at Will with a smile. "Congratulations, Mr. Turner," he said, shaking hands with the blacksmith. "My best wishes for your family."

"It'll be twins, I'm sure. And they're going to name 'em both after me."

"Jack-"

"Yes, one Jack, and the other –"

"Jack!"

The pirate frowned. "Well, I suppose, but that'd be a bit confusing."

The commodore let the comments go, turning back to the more sane demeanor of Captain Turner. "I see you've still got some work ahead before she's seaworthy."

William nodded. "We may be here a while, Commodore. I trust this isn't disputed territory?"

"No, not at all." He glanced over at the island. "Even the French won't fight for this little bit of green." Straightening up formally, he added, "Can my crew be of any service?"

The men looked at each other. Finally Bill stepped forward and spoke up. "We'd certainly appreciate it, Commodore. We can use the extra hands."

"I'd do the same for any citizen of the crown, Captain Turner. Let me make arrangements."

o-o-o

* * *

o-o-o

Three days later, while the setting sun painted the clouds with deep rose and purple, three ships worked closely just off Palomino Island. The two farther from shore bowed slightly to the other, long ropes connected them like spider webs in complicated patterns. A man was standing at the bow of the _Pearl_, shouting orders in a deep voice that were relayed with military precision.

With both the _Dauntless_ and the _Esperance_ poised to haul it into place, the new mast was set in with a minimum of trouble. William looked positively relieved as the last ropes were cast off and it stood solidly on its own. He swarmed up to lash the high crosstree into place himself, leaving the crew to raise the lower.

Standing near the water barrel, he drank deeply. "She's nearly done, Jack. Some rigging to finish and we can be off."

"How long?"

William looked up with a practiced eye. "Half a day." He looked toward the horizon, where the sun was settling in for the night. "Late tomorrow, to be safe."

Jack was staring upwards, his dark eyes shining. "I thank you, William." The ship rose on the swell, somehow feeling more like the _Pearl_ than she had before. "She's happy."

Bill laughed. "Aye. As long as her captain is." He clapped Jack on the shoulder before heading back to the workers at the bow, planning tomorrow's work on the shrouds. Jack watched after him for a while, distracted enough that he was surprised by a low, formal voice behind him.

"If you have a moment."

He turned slowly, as if his eyes were trying to see behind him before he actually moved. "Commodore."

"I need to know something, Mister Sparrow."

"Captain. Captain Sparrow."

"Yes." The commodore's eyes were hard as he looked at the pirate. "His Majesty knows more than you might think."

Jack blinked in amused confusion. "You talked to him yourself, I suppose?"

Norrington glanced off toward the eastern horizon, where the blue of the sky was as dark as the sea. "He's willing to keep the charade in place, if you're willing to do the occasional …_assignment_ for him."

"Work for the crown?" Sparrow's voice was incredulous.

The commodore's eyebrows rose. "From time to time, Captain, there are jobs that are better suited to those more accustomed to the underbelly of the law."

Jack began to protest, then stopped with a resigned shrug. "I must admit to some familiarity with said underbelly."

"Exactly. So when his Majesty calls…?"

Sparrow stepped closer to the rail and looked out into the sunset. For a few minutes he simply watched as the clouds were touched with golden fire. Then he glanced back toward the island, and with a nearly contented sigh, he spoke. "Perhaps it's time for a change, James."

The commodore stiffened, then exhaled slowly. "Indeed."


	19. Nights

Thank you to the reviewers! You are making me want to write more than my boss would like…

* * *

It was midnight.

Will turned over in bed as he felt Elizabeth shift restlessly beside him. She sighed quietly, and he propped himself up on one elbow in the dark to whisper to her.

"Elizabeth?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't, darling. Is there anything I can do?"

She smiled at him in the dark, her hand reaching with unerring aim to caress his cheek before her fingers ran back through his sleep-tangled hair. "I'm just restless." She yawned again as he took her hand, twining his fingers with hers. "If I wasn't so tired, I'd go up on deck." She could feel his chuckle more than hear it.

"You can't tie shrouds in the dark, love. Father wouldn't approve."

She tried to be annoyed, but giggled as he kissed her cheek. Turning to kiss him, she stopped abruptly when she reached to put her arm around him. He pulled back at her wince.

"Elizabeth?"

"I'm fine. It's just my back's aching again." She flopped back with a forlorn sigh that made Will smile in spite of himself. "Can't sleep and can't… not sleep."

He laughed and stroked her arm. "Yet another reason you shouldn't work so hard. Here. Roll over." With a little nudge he rolled her to face away from him, and began to massage her shoulders. She protested weakly about not wanting to keep him awake, but gave a contented little groan as he reached her lower back. He stayed with it until he heard her breathing relax, and grinned as she gave a rather unladylike snore. "Sleep well, darling," he murmured under his breath, kissing her behind the ear. His hand drifted gently down her side and rested on her waist for a few moments.

He moved to lay on his back in the dark, smiling at the ceiling for quite a while. Then he rose in silence, pulled on his breeches and grabbed a shirt as he walked out, closing the hatch quietly behind him.

It was quiet on deck, with barely a watch posted as they floated in the lee of Palomino Island. His father had ordered most of the men down for the night after all the work they'd been doing, hoping they'd have more strength to finish off tomorrow.

Will walked out on deck, stretching into a yawn as he gazed up at the bright ribbon of stars overhead. Looking quite pleased with himself, he spoke softly. "God's in his heaven, all's right with the world." Shrugging into his shirt and leaving it loose in the light breeze, he walked over to the starboard rail and looked out to sea, watching the darker silhouettes of two vessels still moored some distance away. After a moment a frown touched his brow, and he glanced toward the bow of the ship. Following his thoughts, he walked to the fore, looking out over the carved lady that graced the _Pearl_.

"This time I _know_ you should be in bed, lad."

At first he didn't see anything but a golden Cheshire cat grin – but as his eyes grew accustomed to the dark, he was able to focus on the man sitting fairly high up on the bow, where the figurehead merged with the ship. He chuckled, grabbed a rope and climbed to sit near him.

"Elizabeth was restless."

"Then I'd think she'd be the one walking."

"I managed to get her back to sleep." There was a proud edge to the young man's voice that made the other laugh.

"Aye, I'm sure you did."

They sat in amiable silence for a long while, looking at the stars and listening to the sea kissing the hull. This close to the island, they could hear the wind rustle the trees, and the soft sound of surf dancing over the beach.

"I heard father talking to Norrington." There was no response. "Are you going to be alright with this?"

The captain of the _Black Pearl_ turned his head with a soft jingle, and Will watched as he took the red scarf from his head, shaking out his hair. "It took some thinking, lad," he said as he worried the knot loose with long, delicate fingers. "But I know that I can still be free." He tapped his head, making several beads dance. "As long as I'm free in here. I'll always be king of my own ship."

Will nodded thoughtfully at him. "I'm glad, Jack." He slowly smiled. "In my mind you'll always be a good man." He shifted, leaning back against the rigging. "And still a pirate."

A shift in the wind brought sounds of the other two ships closer in the quiet night. A strangely delicate version of a familiar laugh made them look up with matched frowns, straining to see toward the _Dauntless_. After a moment Will pointed. "That wouldn't be them up on the stern, would it?" Sound carries well across water, and for a brief time they were as good as standing next to Ellis and Anamaria Groves, who were taking advantage of the same quiet downtime to stand kissing on the highest point of the mighty ship's deck. They heard faint mumbles of conversation and quiet laughter before the two figures vanished below. "She'll be going on with them, won't she."

"Aye." Jack's smile was fond. "Her husband is finally takin' her home."

The wind shifted back with a sigh, once more crossing Palomino Island on its way to them, and Jack chuckled once more at the big warship, before turning his face into the breeze. The whisper of the trees on the island grew, and for a moment they heard a high sound float above the others. _Ko-kee__, ko-kee, ko-kee._ Jack stared, and even in the starlight Will could see the brightness of his eyes. After a long silence, the pirate spoke in a flat tone. "We'll be leaving tomorrow."

"Yes." Will glanced toward the island and back to his friend. "Jack?"

"Aye?"

"…Can I help you lower a boat?"

o-o-o

* * *

o-o-o

Under the island trees lips met in darkness, gentle fingers ran in caresses that spilled across skin like silk and starlight.

"You know, I may come back, love."

Teeth glimmered like pearls. "And I may be here, Zulee."

Laughter was reduced to sultry giggles, and then to other sounds entirely.

o-o-o

* * *

o-o-o

Five days later the _Black Pearl_ and the _Esperance_ slowed to drop anchor near a piece of ground barely large enough to be called an island. Captain Turner yelled across to the _Pearl_, which was within hailing distance.

"Honestly, Captain. You really want to have our last supper on that particular God-forsaken spit of land?"

The afternoon sun caught the sparkle of Jack's smile as he called back. "God-forsaken it may be, William, but it's _my_ God-forsaken spit of land."

The wind had been kind, and they found themselves within an easy day's sail of Port Royal. The two crews had worked closely enough that they all felt some recognition had to be made of their accomplishment. By evening, after a regular shuttle of boats, several campfires were blazing on the beach and all manner of food was cooking. Besides the seafood available in abundance, strange items magically appeared from secret caches. Exotic dried fruits and confections sat alongside fresh oysters and island dates. Joshamee Gibbs found once more that rum and coconut milk went very, very well together, easily spending most of the evening convincing anyone who hadn't made the discovery yet.

Elizabeth Turner sat near one of the smaller fires, laughing as she delightedly ate the last of Cotton's chocolates. "I still don't see why we didn't wait to have a party at Port Royal."

Her father-in-law looked at her with a surprised frown. "Come now, Elizabeth. Do you really think the governor would appreciate this?" He gestured expansively, nearly hitting a sailor who sat next to him playing a concertina. "Somehow I think not."

She tipped her head sideways in thought. "Perhaps you're right, father."

Will glanced at his father, knowing that happily sheepish look all too well from his own mirror. "Well," he said with a cheerful grin as he sipped from one of Gibb's coconut shells, "I think it's a good way to celebrate the _Black __Pearl__'s_ recovery. And her captain's."

Jack nodded graciously to the impromptu cheers, spoiling the moment only slightly as he nearly tipped over backwards after doing so. He rose unsteadily to his feet, and took no notice when William hooked a hand through his sash from behind to keep him from tumbling into the fire. "My friends, I thank you all. The _Pearl_ thanks you." He pointed with one finger in a wobbly circle around the gathering, using the rest of his hand to hold his rum. "And everyone that I call friend knows they will not be forgot." More cheering followed a puzzled pause, and the evening eased gently into night.

o-o-o

* * *

o-o-o

It was bordering on dawn when Will walked over to where Jack was lounging near the remains of the fire, his arm under his head as he stared up at the sky.

"Jack?" The pirate startled just a bit.

"Yes, lad?"

The younger man stood staring out to sea for a while, then looked back at the captain. "I'm not sure you should come back to Port Royal right away. I mean, not until we're sure…"

Jack's grin sparkled in amusement. "You need to stop worrying about me, my boy. You'll have your own to worry about soon enough."

Will nodded, remaining thoughtful. "Still, I think –"

Jack was on his feet with surprising grace, his arm over Will's shoulder as he leaned in to speak conspiratorially to him. "If you're trying to tell me that you're taking passage to Port Royal with your father, I already thought as much."

"Can you manage without us?" His expression was sadly hopeful, and Jack wasn't sure just what he was hoping for. "I mean, Elizabeth has been acting as a pilot."

"I've got Gibbs and Cotton." He shrugged. "Cotton's parrot, anyway. We'll be fine." He leaned a bit closer, making Will blink. "And I think you're right lad. We'll make sure everyone has gotten the message that the _Pearl_ is welcome before we show up unannounced."

"Jack?" Elizabeth had eased up behind them, silent on the sand.

"Ah, Lizzie –" He didn't get to finish as she threw her arms around him in a hug.

"You must come and see us soon." She pulled back to look into his eyes. "Promise?"

The pirate smiled, glanced at Will and back to her. "Aye, Lizzie. As soon as I've got my crew filled in, and some debts repaid." He hugged her to him and planted a kiss on her head. "I promise I'll be there to meet my nephew." Elizabeth nodded, her eyes watering. She kissed his cheek and gave Will's hand a squeeze before walking quickly to help load the last of the boats back, clearly not wanting to break down in front of them.

The two stared after her for a while before Jack spoke. "She's a fine woman, Will. Take good care of her."

"I plan to."

o-o-o

* * *

o-o-o


	20. Beginnings

And now, the conclusion of "His Majesty's Pearl". Thank you especially to those who stopped long enough leave kind words.

o-o-o

* * *

o-o-o

The_ Black Pearl_ was resting some leagues north of the eastern end of Jamaica, having watched her sister ship home at a respectable distance. Now, as the moon slowly rose through bars of gilded cloud, Jack Sparrow stood at the bow staring thoughtfully toward the shore. Joshamee Gibbs walked up beside him and sighed loudly.

"Bad luck comin' even _this_ close, Cap'n."

The captain's lips curved in a wry smile. "Aye, Mr. Gibbs. Terrible bad luck." He turned to look at his second in command and his expression froze when he saw the view behind him. Gibbs raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Jack?"

"Perhaps even worse luck than you'd think."

Gibbs turned to look and swore. Even in the dark he could recognize the _Dauntless_. "I don't suppose there's any hope they haven't seen us."

"Not when we're exactly what they're looking for, Mr. Gibbs." Jack looked toward the mainland again and sighed. "Bring us closer to shore and lower my boat. I'll go meet the commodore in private."

Gibbs shook his head. "Aye, Cap'n." Muttering his way back amidships, he called orders to Cotton at the helm.

* * *

"I thought I might find you here, Captain Sparrow." Jack tensed imperceptibly as his eyes shifted to look at the commodore. It almost sounded like the man _intentionally_ called him 'captain'.

"Yes, well, James, you know how it is." As the commodore stiffened in annoyance, Jack relaxed again. No point in making things too easy between them. He was wondering if he may have gone too far when the commodore finally spoke in a tight voice.

"That's 'Commodore', Sparrow. Commodore Norrington."

The pirate chuckled at that. "Fair enough." He extended a hand, which hung in the air for a while as Norrington ignored it, eventually fluttering back to his lapel after a movement that made him look, for a moment, as if he were conducting an imaginary orchestra. "Well, _Commodore_." Jack tipped his head back to look at the other man. "What brings us here?"

"I received word from His Majesty that the terms of our deal were acceptable. In fact, he has a small problem you can take care of."

"Already?"

The commodore looked down his nose at the pirate. "Unless you prefer that our former relationship resume? I do have a fully armed ship close at hand, not to mention a fort –"

Jack held up his hands in defense. "Alright, alright. What does ol' George want from me and my _Pearl_?"

Norrington took a deep breath. "He wants you to sail to London. Or at least close enough to pick something up from a ship out of Southhampton. A bit of an errand."

"Bit of an errand?" The pirate stepped back on the rocky beach, wobbling slightly as he frowned. "Gods, man, that's three months at least, back and forth, even on the _Black Pearl_."

"Yes?"

"Well…" Jack trailed off for a moment, turned abruptly to look farther inland. "I promised Lizzie and the whelp I'd be here to greet their boy."

If Norrington was surprised, he hid it well. Instead, looking thoughtfully up at the clouded stars, he shrugged. "Surely you're not suggesting that a ship such as the _Pearl_ couldn't be back in time?" The pirate shot him a dark look. "Or perhaps you can think of it as _incentive_."

"Ah. As opposed to simply not being hung for sailing my ship?"

The commodore's mouth quirked as he looked away. "Indeed."

Jack paused for a moment before walking unsteadily over to the dinghy and pulling a bottle out from under the bench. "Well then, James. Howsabout we have a drink and you can tell me all about this little 'errand'."

o-o-o

* * *

o-o-o

Will stepped out into the garden that had been so carefully planted before they left and sighed. It was peaceful, the breeze tickling the trees and wafting a scent of vanilla to the house on the hill. He walked out onto the footbridge over the tiny stream and stared out to sea, resting his elbows on the railing as he leaned on it. Not a ship in sight. Shaking his head, he spoke quietly to the night air.

"I hope you're alright, Jack."

"I'm sure he's fine, Will."

The young man turned with a start and laughed. "Elizabeth." Stepping toward her he took her hand and gave her a kiss. "Did I wake you?"

She laughed in turn, brushing her hand over her abdomen. She was beginning to look like she was actually with child, and they found it both exciting and a little frightening. "No, I think the baby managed to do that all by himself." Her eyes widened abruptly and she put his hand on her stomach. His smile turned to one of astonishment.

"Was that him?" She giggled and nodded. "That must feel – strange."

"A bit." Elizabeth looked at him with joy in her eyes. "But wonderful."

Will looked into her eyes and shook his head in wonder. "I love you."

They were still kissing when a _tching_ noise nearby made them stop and turn toward the forest.

"Honestly. Isn't that how you got into this to begin with?"

"Jack!"

"In the flesh. By God, Lizzie, you feel like you're going to have a baby." He pulled away from her hug to look her up and down. "Do you know when, yet?"

"Mrs. Connors thinks I'm about four months along."

"Ah."

Elizabeth frowned up at him and glanced at Will, who met her eyes with the same puzzlement. "Is that a problem, captain?"

"No, it should be fine."

Will laughed. "Well aren't we relieved." When Jack didn't respond, but glanced back toward the wood, Will and Elizabeth exchanged another look. "Listen, Jack. Will you come in for a cup of rum?"

Jack looked at him thoughtfully, then shook his head. "I've got to be off, lad."

Will's eyes widened. "Norrington? But I thought we were set with that."

Elizabeth nodded. "Even in town they're starting to tell stories about how Jack Sparrow, the first one, is dead, and there's some other taking his place and his name, but they don't know anything about him."

The pirate managed a grin at that. "It's Norrington, but he's not after me to stretch my neck. I've got a little job to do."

Will spoke without thinking. "I'll go with you."

"So will I."

"No, no you won't. Neither of you."

"Children _have_ been born on ships before, Jack."

"I have to take the _Pearl_ to London."

They stood in silence for a few moments before Jack went on. "And you know as well as I do that the weather can make things unpredictable between here and there. I wanted to let you know where I'd be, so you didn't worry if the boy came before I was back." He shook his head, chuckled at himself. "I haven't accounted for myself in years. Better be flattered, love."

Elizabeth bit her lower lip, then moved to hug him. "I am, Captain."

"Excellent. Then I'll take a moment more to have a drink with you before I'm off. And we'll work out what you can add to the legend of Captain Jack Sparrow in this town. Savvy?"

o-o-o

* * *

o-o-o

o-o

A honey-skinned woman entered a small hut on Palomino Island, looking around as if she'd been away for a while. A faint smile crossed her lips as she glanced over to the bed and saw a red scarf laying there, its owner long gone. She nodded as she walked over and picked it up, running its silken smoothness through her fingers. Her gaze drifted toward the small table near the bed, and an eyebrow lifted.

Setting there, in a leaf that curved like a shallow bowl, was a delicately wire wrapped bauble. The woman lifted it carefully, looking at it curiously in the gentle light of the hut, iridescence shimmering across the dark surface. A black pearl.

Smiling gently, she tied it into her long, dark hair. Her whisper was warm in the silence.

"I'll not forget you, Zulee. Have no fear."

o-o-o

o-o-o-o-o

o-o-o

END

o

* * *

o

* * *

o

* * *

Thanks to those who have stayed with me. A few author's notes: If you're like me, when you've read a piece of historical fiction, you want to know what the author made up and what she just 'used'.

To that end:

The Battle of Jenkin's Ear really happened.

Palomino Island really exists, and is approximately where I put it.

There were three King George's in the 1700's. I just didn't use a number.

There really was a 's Harbor and a Port Maria on the northeastern coast of Jamaica.

Crab Island exists, and is now called Vieques.

The native words, in both Creek and Taino (natives of the islands) are as close as I could render them. You can find dictionaries of these online.

The story of Jack's parents is loosely based on that of an historical Native American woman, the daughter of a Creek Emperor who married an English trader and was given the name "Mary".

The French and Spanish Alliance was real. The infighting and possible rebellion is an invention of the author.

Thanks for reading!

Miran Anders


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